


A window standing open

by Unusualpairings



Category: Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Angst, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Lemon, Love, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Unexpected pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6109508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unusualpairings/pseuds/Unusualpairings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you ever stopped to wonder what life would have been if you'd never had to grow up?</p><p>A strong aversion to adulthood drives Wendy Darling to a world she left behind, and to face a past and a man that holds her unknown future; Captain James Hook. </p><p>At nineteen Wendy Darling’s head should be filled with marriage and homemaking, not sword fighting and mermaids. And though there have been many overtures, Wendy’s thoughts are never far from Neverland. And one night at the apex of her despair, Peter is back!  Whisking her back to the land of her dreams and fantasies but Wendy has changed... and so have the people of Neverland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Some childish things never put to rest

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1 Have you ever stopped to wonder what life would have been if you'd never had to grow up?

What you may be doing at this very moment were you not tied down with the trials and tribulations of everyday life? You would be free. Not a care in the world. Only possibility, hope and curious excitement every waking moment knowing there was another adventure to conquer just around the corner.

While we all may wish to remain children forever, there are those of us who know that cannot be. There are responsibilities in the world. There is order and propriety and all of those things that young children despise. With all of those abhorred things ahead, who would ever long to grow up?

Wendy Darling, famed in Neverland for her adventure with the nimble young Peter Pan was thinking of such things as she sat perched beside the large window of her old nursery, looking out into the dark, snowy London night before her. The air outside the window was cool, and the crisp night air whirled past her like a lost playmate.

She had grown up.

Peter had never come for her again.

She'd never hear that sweet boyish melodious strain of his victorious cry again. She'd never even had a glimmer of the excitement in London the way she'd had in Neverland. Peter would never return.

But had she ever tried to call him back?

She almost thought she could hear his distant laugh.

"Oh Peter," she whispered.

"Wendy?" The young woman spun around to face behind her looking to her mother in surprise. She hadn't even heard the soft padding footsteps of her mother; evidently she had been immersed in deep nostalgia.

"Mother," she said with an uneasy smile as she came in from the cold, her dark hair knotted from the wind's explorations of her hair, some faint remnants of snowflakes sticking in parts.

"You startled me."

"It wasn't my intention." The older woman's eyes crinkled as she glanced around the room and at last her daughter and spoke. "You haven't been in here in ages."

It was true. Michael and John were at an all boy’s boarding school, getting the education they so richly deserved according to her Aunt. Meanwhile, Wendy had been moved into a room of her own as the years went on and finishing school was completed. A room where according to Aunt Gwen 'young ladies' should reside. Wendy Darling was just shy of twenty now, and while she still retained that of childlike innocence, she was almost completely a grown up. How she hated that term. How she hated being grown up. She was always polite, always on her best behavior.

Oh, how Wendy longed for her past adventures. Mermaids, Indians, pirates...a distinct villain appeared in her subconscious then, a tall man with a hook for a hand and she shuddered at the memory. If there was one thing to taint her memories past, it was Peter's past adversary, Captain Hook.

"Cold dear?"

"A bit," Wendy lied, closing the window behind her as she made her way to the door of the nursery. She looked at the long forgotten toys she used to play with, the clothing she used to dress up in as she, John and Michael had battled the high seas.

What had happened when she returned from Neverland? What had happened to her? When did she seemingly die inside? Where was her sense of adventure? Had it all been lost at that finishing school Aunt Gwen had boasted on and on about?

Wendy suddenly heaved a large sigh, wishing to fall into her waiting bed as soon as possible. Images of a laughing Peter, of curious lost boys and menacing pirates floated from her mind, replaced with that of her latest (completely dull) novel about manners and all things tedious. She smiled though, knowing that a newly found book on mermaids and fairies would surely make its journey up from between her mattress and onto her lap.

"Aunt Gwen wishes to see you before you retire." Her mother was talking again, waking Wendy from her momentary reverie. The younger girl nodded darkly, looking up a moment.

"She usually does."

Wendy left down the stairs primly, not screaming at the top of her lungs as she slid down the banister. No, only her flat palm made contact with the aforementioned banister, and she was sure to take her time making her way down the staircase. She didn't wish to see her Aunt more than necessary. She was suddenly aware of her mother's presence on the stairs not even two steps behind her and this worried her slightly.

"Mother," Wendy said absently looking behind her, "I thought I was to see Aunt Gwen alone."

"No dear," Mrs. Darling was beaming slightly, looking to her daughter with a grand smile. "We're all meeting in the study, along with your father."

Wendy's stomach sank at the mention of the three of them. She and the three adults in the study? This could only mean that something truly horrifyingly serious was about to occur, she tried to calm the tremor in her stomach. She stepped into the study, with her mother closing the door behind her. She saw her father and Aunt talking dimly to one another until they heard the door close, in which their attention was completely drawn upon the young Wendy.

It was then that Wendy noticed the small piece of parchment in her father's hands. Wendy's eyes widened as she noted this, and felt her mother gently prodding her into a nearby chair. She fell into the chair, not able to take her eyes off of the item in her father's hand. Mr. and Mrs. Darling beamed at each other as they turned to their daughter, her normally pallid looking father looked extremely excited and this only caused Wendy's stomach to drop further.

"Jack has made his intentions clear." Her father burst out, not even giving her a chance to collect herself.

Wendy already felt the swelling, suffocating feeling taking over.

"And I have given my consent." Mr. Darling finished proudly.

Jack Belstow was an eligible man. He was handsome, polite; well off but in Wendy's eyes, completely dull. When she'd tried relaying her many adventurous stories he'd given her a patronizing smile and pat on the hand before he informed her he ' _wasn't one for stories_ '.

Wasn't one for stories? Was that even possible?

Wendy had known then that she could never love Jack. Not just because he was dull and unbelievingly uninspiring, but also because he had never been able to elicit the slightest of butterflies in Wendy's stomach. Something she found to be quite worrisome. Even his kisses were demure, boring even. Where was the passion she'd read about? The kind of fire that men killed for? The kind that star-crossed lovers fought for? The dramatic, timeless love stories she'd grown up with?

No. Jack Belstow would never do.

It was time her parents should know this. She'd played the charade of the polite daughter quite long enough. Polite was one thing, but to sign her life away all for supposed propriety was quite another.

"I do not wish to marry," Wendy managed to choke out, finding the whole process of rebuffing her would be lover to be much harder than imagined.

"What was that sweetheart?" Mrs. Darling offered with a terse smile, wishing the prior sentence away.

"I said," Wendy muttered darkly, her voice almost a growl "I do not wish to marry."

"What is wrong with Jack?" Gwen said, busying herself with wringing her hands together worriedly. "He's a most kind, eligible bachelor."

"It's not Jack," Wendy said, finally drawing her gaze to meet that of her family. "I just do not wish to marry."

There was a lapsing silence in which the older parties looked to one another in confusion. Wendy could hear the distant ticking of the grandfather clock for a full moment before someone found the courage to speak.

"Ever?" Her father gulped, looking more lost than ever.

"Ever." Wendy's voice was firm, the power behind her words steadying her. It was the fluttery Aunt Gwen that eventually broke the hypnotic hold of the moment in her usual brash fashion. The woman Wendy had been named after whom she had nothing in common with.

"Nonsense,” Gwen trilled with a haughty laugh. "Complete and utter hogwash."

"It's not nonsense." Wendy said calmly, her hands clenching on the sides of her skirt. "I have thought the matter through thoroughly, and this is my decision. I do not wish to marry Jack. I do not wish to marry ever."

"Still so childish," Gwen mocked testily, "What will come of you then Wendy? Off for some more adventures in that silly little dreamland of yours?"

Wendy felt the fury within her growing at her Aunt's words.

"Off to learn sword fighting and cursing like some loathsome trollop?"

"Gwen,” Mr. Darling warned softly, but Gwen heard nothing and Wendy was beginning to quake slightly in her chair as her Aunt finished with an acidic comment she would soon regret.

"Only to become a poor shrew that nobody ever wants?"

"You mean become exactly like you?" Wendy boomed, her face an ugly scarlet. Gwen’s lips quivered in indignation, but she said nothing as Wendy continued her tirade furious. "Ending up some wrinkled, miserable old cow that nobody ever wants around?"

"WENDY!" Mrs. Darling had gone quite white in the face. "Obviously you must be ill. You're not yourself."

"Such a temper," Gwen sputtered angrily, her face flushing. "You'd think that finishing school would have trained it out of you."

"I am not an animal to be trained!" Wendy shouted standing suddenly, overtaken with a rage she hadn't felt in so long. "I am a free human being! And as such, I am leaving."

"Where?"

"Wherever I please," Wendy said furiously, turning on her heel as she finished over her shoulder, "And I wish to remain, undisturbed for as long as I wish."

"You will not speak to us like that," Mr. Darling warned, his voice taking on a slight tinge of warning, which Wendy still feared. He may have been a slight and mostly mousy man, but he was her father. She suddenly felt the tight grip of her father's hand on her elbow and realized he was leading her up the stairs. She tried to wrench free of his grasp, but found she was no match for her red-faced father. When they reached the landing, he led her into the nursery.

"You will not venture outside this room until you are civil enough to come down and apologize to your Aunt. She has been endlessly supportive with you and your brothers."

"Supportive?" Wendy whispered in shock, "John and Michael are miserable at boarding school. They wish to come home! I have the letters to prove it!"

"They are getting an education that your mother and I alone could never give them. They will thank us and your Aunt, in the end."

"She's got you completely under her thumb." Wendy growled, ignoring the vein that jutted from her father's angry red looking neck. "I will never apologize to her!"

Her father was moving from her, his back growing straighter with every passing step. Shying from the fury and truth being thrown at him by his childlike daughter.

"Then you shall remain in here until you've grown up just a little, Wendy," her father said at the door, closing and locking it behind him soundly.

"I never wanted to grow up in the first place!" Wendy shouted at the closed door. Her furious cries soon turned to fresh tears that had her entire body shaking. How could her parents have turned so easily against her for an old sow like Gwen? How she wished for John and Michael at that moment. They would call their Aunt horrible names, and to cheer Wendy up, they would put on their best shadow puppet play, making her laugh through it all.

How she wished for a life nothing like this.

She regretted not staying in Neverland. Why did she think life would ever be different when she returned those long seven years ago? She stood then, wiping her eyes quickly and staring at the large window across the room. She was becoming hysterical, and thoughts that she never would have considered before began to surface. What if she were to simply jump out the window of her beloved nursery? Then it started. Familiar long lost prickles of intrigue had started on the back of her hand, moving up her arms and to the back of her neck and face making her positively thrum with curiosity. That childlike curiosity she thought had been long lost.

"They'll regret everything they ever did to me." Wendy whispered dimly, moving towards the large windows. She was almost in a trance, a horribly dark trance. Her eyes were fixated on that small slip of a ledge just outside the large windows, just enough to balance on before the inevitable.

There would be pain, surely, but only a bit. It would be nothing in comparison to the hell that she would have to endure if she were to wed Jack and to bear his children. To listen to him drone on about his dull workload whilst she mended his trousers and socks. The mere thought was overwhelmingly repulsive.

She could never apologize to her Aunt. She could never look into that horrid face and find mercy. She couldn't force herself to do it. Besides, her eyes were drawing to the windows again; it was such a beautiful night. She could see her parent's faces now when they found her pale corpse the next morning. Mrs. Darling would scream and clutch at her paling husband who would be in utter shock.

"What have we done?" Gwen would shriek, fainting onto the street next to her niece, who looked like a dramatic, sleeping doll. There would be much fuss at her funeral, many tears shed.

But she would be free.

She opened the windows then, her eyes completely glazed over. She barely realized what she was doing. She slowly pulled herself out the window, balancing in her bare feet on the thin ledge just outside the window. She had her back against the window of her room, holding it behind her slightly for support. When she'd steadied herself a bit, she looked down, seeing the cavernous blackness of the London streets below and the snow that danced around her. It wasn't as daunting as before. Perhaps in the end, it would be like going back to Neverland. Like coming home.

Peter's voice suddenly sounded in her head. _To die would be an awfully big adventure._

"A most grand adventure," Wendy agreed with the long lost Peter. One hand was making its way from the window to the open space in front of her. She was going to do it. Her heart was soaring with exhilaration, but suddenly, images of Neverland and Peter were replaced with that of John and Michael and she felt deep sorrow. Her mother's gentle kisses and her father's timid hugs were suddenly overtaking the argument they'd been thrown in together moments before.

"What am I doing?" Wendy suddenly stammered, waking from this trance-like suicide attempt. This wasn't who she was. This was just plain idiotic. She turned then, preparing to step back inside the nursery back to apologize for being obtuse to her parents. She was almost turned completely around when -without warning- her left foot slipped on the icy ledge.

And with all images of family and Neverland disappearing from her mind, Wendy fell off the ledge of her nursery window and into the darkness below.


	2. Where dreams are born and time is never planned

_This is it._

Wendy's mind spoke this final sentence; this was the end for her as she was surely going to die.

In the one moment in which she decided life was worth living again, she had slipped off her icy window ledge and into the street below.

When it had first happened, it had occurred so very slowly she felt as if she were dreaming. It was all so surreal. Her fingertips just missing the edge of her windowsill. Her hair flying up and almost blinding her. The feel of snow whirling around her as she fell. She closed her eyes now, willing to a higher power to be gentle, to spare her even. She'd marry that oaf Jack. She'd apologize to her parents and even stupid Aunt Gwen!

She was certain death was upon her now, its claws waiting to snap up a young fool like she. And in these final moment only one image remained.

_Neverland._

Without warning, Wendy felt as two wiry arms snuggled around her body, stopping her unnatural plummet into the cold, wet ground below. Her eyes, which had been squeezed so tightly shut before now opened slowly, tentatively. Below her was the ground still a spell downward. She swallowed a shriek as she focused on the ground below her. It was quite wobbly and her head suddenly throbbed as she was pulled upward. Pulled upward? Had she suddenly sprouted wings? No. The feel of two arms around her slowly brought the realization that she was being held. And she knew exactly by whom. Who else?

She noticed they were approaching the nursery window, and Wendy offered a small gasp as she was gingerly placed on the windowsill. She climbed into the nursery quickly, not caring if she seemed a coward. Her back was to him. She didn't dare turn yet, she needed her composure. She needed him to see her, as she always was when they were young. She was afraid he'd leave the moment he'd see her.

The transition from child to woman in the span of ages twelve to twenty is nothing to laugh at. She wondered if he looked any different, and when the strain of curiosity proved to be too much, she turned to face him determinedly.

Peter Pan.

He hadn't grown any taller, that was for sure, as she saw him carelessly balancing on her windowsill, looking completely nonchalant and yet entertained. But that impish smile was more than familiar. Still the jagged teeth that hadn't quite made it to maturity, the pixie haircut filled with sun kissed highlights and the occasional twig, and bright eyes that danced even when he was in the blackest of moods.

No, Peter Pan hadn't changed one bit

"You came for me," Wendy managed to choke out, looking at the unlined face of her childhood companion. What had made him come here for her on tonight of all nights?

"You called me," was the childlike response from the boy.

Wendy was taken aback at this, until she remembered the faint wistful cry she'd spoken in the nursery hours before. She smiled softly then, looking to this radiant youth atop her windowsill, looking proudly down at her, hands on his hips and a smile on his face. There was no malice or regret, no anger or grudge. Just a happy boy looking at an older friend he hadn’t seen in a while. But was it a look of recognition she actually saw on his face? Or did he believe her to be another desperate child?

"Do you remember me, Peter?" Wendy was torn as she spoke, partly out of fear from what she'd hear. "Do you truly remember?"

There was a moment of quiet calm, and before she could say or do anything more, Peter's face was inches from her own as he soared over to her. She felt her stomach tilt at the motion out of surprise. She felt his small nose brush against hers a moment before he pulled away thoughtfully.

"Your hair is darker, and you're quite a bit taller." A small smile curved on Peter's pinkish lips then. "But I'd recognize Wendy Darling anywhere. Do you still tell your stories? Oh tell me they haven't taken that from you!"

Wendy felt a sudden welling of overjoyed elation. He did remember her. Peter Pan. He was youth, he was joy. And she knew exactly to which 'they' he was referring.

"No, but they've taken almost everything else," she offered solemnly. The two stood opposite one another a moment, Wendy solemn, and Peter seemingly a bundle of nerves.

"You're not married are you?" Peter asked bluntly as Wendy stifled a frown. "Kissing and all that nonsense?"

"No, I'm not married yet," Wendy started, and then giving a dramatic lift of her chin added; "Never."

Peter's face broke out into a wide smile, and he suddenly glanced at his old companion and felt a flash of hope cross him.

"Come back with me, Wendy," Peter suddenly urged, his face alight and eager. "Come back to Neverland."

"You still wish for my company?" Wendy dared to ask the young man, feeling older than she ever had. She felt as if she could be his mother, even though it wasn't true. She had simply grown up.

"Always," Peter remarked. "You never should have left."

"I'd feel foolish." Wendy was observing her attire and noticing her obvious height difference. "Why, you'll all be children there. I'll tower over you all."

"Not all." Peter claimed in earnest, "Why there are boys that reach up to the tallest trees! Boys that drink the ocean! Wendy you must come back, the Lost Boys miss you terribly! You must tell us all your new stories!"

Wendy's smile soon died from her face at the last of the young hero's words, and when he realized he was the source of her unhappiness, Peter wished he'd never spoken them aloud in the first place.

"But I haven't any new stories, Peter," Wendy replied darkly, drawing deeper into the nursery, trying to hide herself from the moonlight outside her open windows. "Don't you see I've grown up? I'm a woman now, not a child."

She waited for his childlike tantrum. She waited for him to shrug and float off. But he did not. In fact when she looked to him, he seemed more otherworldly than usual.

"Some people grow up completely and lose their magic," Peter said slowly with a sad expression. "And some may look grown up, but inside are just as young as me."

Wendy noticed he'd trailed off, not wishing to say any more. He didn't need to. When Wendy looked at the boy, actually looked at him, she saw everything that she'd desired in childhood adventure. He was here for a reason. He was here to take her away from all of this. He was giving her a second chance. She felt her stomach fluttering at the thought of simply whisking away to Neverland right this moment.

Why, what would her parents think when they arrived to see an empty nursery the next morning? Perhaps they would be better off without her? There it was, all of a sudden swimming before her eyes.

Neverland.

Freedom.

Adventure.

And at that moment Wendy could almost hear Peter speaking out that poem from their first travels together.

"So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land!"

Wendy suddenly approached the windowsill, looking to Peter with an unreadable expression upon her face. She looked behind her forlornly a moment and then back to an expectant Peter.

"I've got my happy thought."

Not even three minutes later, Wendy and Peter were soaring through the night sky, dodging the snowflakes that threatened to blind their vision. Around the clouds that offered nothing but rain, until they were higher, higher than before and looking down on a blanket of soft cloud. Peter suddenly dove downward, his feet darting out behind him as he sliced through the sky, emitting a worried squeal from Wendy as she watched the boy, not realizing she should know better. When he didn't resurface from the graying clouds moments later, Wendy did in fact begin to worry slightly, in a most grown up fashion, whilst still trying to retain her happy thought to keep her from falling.

She was seconds away from screaming for him when he suddenly appeared through the puffy clouds. "Scare you?"

She noticed he'd taken some of the clouds and fixed them upon his face, giving himself thick eyebrows and an overly exaggerated moustache. He curled the forefinger on his right hand and gave his most fearsome growl.

"Do you know who I am, my beauty?" Wendy giggled at the deep voice, which she recognized immediately.

"Why you sir, are Hook!"

"Wrong!" Snarled the fake Hook, "It's Captain James Hook to you! For your impertinence I demand you walk the plank!"

Wendy was laughing then, not ladylike giggles, but full guffaws as they soared like magnificent birds. Peter had joined her moments later as the clouds began to evaporate from his young face. They flew well into the night, and neither were tired. They talked of childish things (never grownup), of wishes and dreams, and of the many adventures they would conquer. When he wasn't looking, Wendy allowed herself to glance at his youthful face with a slight feeling of envy, for he was forever the epitome of youth and joy and she was only glad to have a small part of it.

She forgot how long they flew for, and only began to count the time as they soared into the breaking sunlight of a new morning. Faster and further until a familiar feeling went through Wendy from her head to her feet. A most extraordinary feeling that was hot and cold all at once; a feeling of childhood, with all its smells and tastes and feelings.

She felt Peter's hand grab her own excitedly as they prepared to fly downward. Wendy was suddenly filled with such thanks for Peter that she had to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. Peter took no notice of this, and instead looked down to the grounds where his group of lost boys awaited his return.

How excited they would be to see their familiar mother and storyteller! Wendy looked down as well, her heart swelling as the familiar sights of Neverland overwhelmed and yet calmed her as her one happy thought intensified. I'm home.

Meanwhile, down on the Jolly Roger, two figures were on the deck moving back and forth. One was a small, bumbling man with a white beard and yellowing bandana, peering through a telescope.

The other was a tall man with dark curls and resplendent dressings upon him. It would be foolish for one not to notice the silver hook on the latter fellow's right hand, glinting in the morning's sunlight. Wendy hadn't even taken any notice of the large ship as she soared into her childhood dream world.

She'd been so preoccupied with looking for the Lost Boys and other familiar faces. Had she actually looked to the ship she would have seen two distant figures that could only be Smee and Captain James Hook.

"I don't believe it," Smee suddenly exclaimed as he saw the two familiar figures flew overhead and down into the foliage covered bungalow that Captain Hook and his followers could scarcely manage to find.

"Believe what?" drawled the irritable Captain to his first mate. His icy blue eyes fell on the floundering Smee, and suppressed a large sneer, causing his thin moustache to twitch ever so slightly.

"Why…it's Pan!" Smee said, noting as the Captain rolled his eyes skyward dramatically.

"What fascinating news, Smee."

"But, he's got someone with him! A grown up!"

"A grown up?" Hook said with a touch of irritation as he sauntered towards his assistant of sorts. "Smee you old fool, you're obviously slipping in your old age. Pan does not retrieve grown ups to bring back to Neverland. It simply isn't done."

"But Captain!" Smee insisted, his face pinched tightly together. "I seen it with me own two eyes!"

"Give me that," Came Hook's growl as his good hand grasped the telescope out of the chubby pirate's hands.

His own stormy blue eyes observed the sight that had Smee so flabbergasted seconds before. It took the Captain a minute to find the two coming down from the sky, and another moment or two to recognize whom this 'grown up' was. When Hook finally did observe and recall the familiar, pale floating figure from his past, his cruel lips curved into that of a sadistic smile, and he spoke in a voice so filled with venom that Smee slightly trembled.

"She's back."


	3. In a home under the trees

"Wendy!"

Wendy smiled sweetly gently touching the ground as the gathering of Lost Boys grew larger around her and Peter. She cast a swift glance at her friend and saw the gleaming pride in his eyes, feeling ever more the hero and leader of this group.

She looked to the group of young, dirty children and felt her heart swell ten times larger than ever. This is where she truly belonged, where people were overjoyed to see her. Where she felt not terror, but joy.

"Wendy!"

"Mother!"

The group rushed towards her and then seemed to stop all at once, as if there were some invisible force holding them back. Wendy feared for an instant, they were being attacked and quickly looked behind her. But no, there was nothing. She looked back and felt her breath hitch as they suddenly glanced at her from top to bottom, shooting bewildered looks at one another and then back to her. She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"My...you're so tall."

"And...grown up looking."

"I'm only nineteen," Wendy insisted, feeling her point hadn't been made as they all gave mighty gasps of horror, backing up even further, as if growing older were some contagious disease. Tink darted forth then, a brilliant gold pest. Wendy offered a civil hello, for she and Tinkerbell had never, truly been the closest of friends. Suddenly Peter charged forth from beside Wendy.

"You dare speak to your mother like that?"

"But look at her!" Curly exclaimed, "She's so tall!'

"And strange looking," another added.

Before Peter could jump to her defense (which he needn't really bother in doing, since she was more than capable) Wendy stepped forward swiftly.

"Well, if I'm to be your mother, it only makes sense that I should be older that the rest of you. Doesn't it? I mean, how can a little girl take care of a whole group of little boys?"

The Lost Boys gave each other looks of question a moment, looking pensively from one to the other.

"That's grown up logic for you," Nibs said gently, glancing at Wendy a moment, and then slowly, one-by-one they all began to nod, until they all were merry and excited, shouting out requests as she smiled once more.

"Tell us a story, Wendy!"

"Oh yes, the one about the glass slipper!"

"No! The one about Bluebeard!"

Wendy laughed gently, nodding and informing them all that she would be happy to tell them a story. One about a young girl rescued from a dark castle from a flying prince, she promised, giving a sly wink at the grinning Peter. And there, in the clearing of their small fort, Wendy found herself a spot amongst tri colored flowers, and soft grass and began, with great gusto, the story of the amazing, flying boy.

*****************************

"So," Hook said to Smee, pacing back and forth on the deck in his dark and glossy boots. "Wendy Darling has come back to Neverland, and as a grown up no less! Will wonder never cease?"

He let out a soft chuckle then, as if he couldn't himself believe it. Softly he shook his head, tossing his telescope at Smee, who frantically tried not to drop the valuable item. "She hardly looked that grown up, Captain." Smee offered with a shrug.

"Not even twenty, I'd wager."

"A perfect age," the Captain said thoughtfully, "That age where one must face the responsibilities of adulthood, but undoubtedly yearns for the gentle comfort of adolescence. A most vulnerable age, a perfect age, indeed."

"But, why has she come back?" Smee wondered aloud."What could she possibly want here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hook said with a knowing smirk. "She's hiding from real life, the foolish girl! She thinks she'll be content here, with that group of boys! She'll tire of them soon enough though, all grown girls do. A woman of her age wants a man."

As if this had started some deep-seated spark, Hook sauntered off then, preferring to be alone with his thoughts for the moment. Smee watched the Captain disappear from sight below decks, and prayed there wasn't something too devious afoot.

********************************

"One more story, Wendy!" Winks insisted seated on her lap, giving Wendy large, doe like eyes of desperation.

She gave a gentle smile, followed soon after by a yawn and prodded him off her lap.

"No more for tonight," Wendy replied, looking into the crackling fire."It's far too late, and I am much too tired!"

And it was late. It was already dark in the woods, and most of the younger boys had already fallen asleep. Feeling more maternal that words could say, Wendy bit back a small spring of tears, building up and making her eyes quite shiny. She saw the rest of the boys mutter something to one another then before lying on the sweet smelling grass or self made hammocks, and falling asleep. Wendy was about to do the same when she felt a small tap on her shoulder.

"Peter?"

"I have something to show you."

Wendy nodded, and as Peter helped her to her feet she blushed. Not because she felt romantic inclinations towards the boy now, but because she had once. It was all so frightfully bizarre. She'd been in not even a day and at this moment she felt nothing but relaxing comfort. In the presence of this land she felt completely at peace. Peter had promised that he’d take her on trips around the island, to find treasure on the ocean floor and anything else she wanted. The moments spent with Peter were ones in which she felt as if she were in the presence of something amazing, something in which Wendy felt as if it were a legend in the making.

She only hoped she could someday write the stories of Peter's adventures. They walked along a long while, momentarily stopping to see things of interest, like small wildlife that did not exist back in dreary old London.

"Did you think of this often at home?" Peter inquired suddenly as Wendy gently shooed a small purple and orange bird from her shoulder.

"Of what? Neverland?"

"Neverland, the Lost Boys... Me?" Peter turned his head slightly then at the latter, not wanting to meet her questioning eyes.

"Of course I did." Wendy insisted, "Every day...but you never came back."

"You never called."

"They moved my room. They locked my windows. They made me go to finishing school and stop telling stories to Michael and John after we returned," Wendy trailed off then at the mention of her two brothers.

"John and Michael?”

“Yes. My brother’s.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t you remember them?”

“Not really. But I see you miss them,” Peter offered kindly. Wendy nodded; swallowing tears that should never had been shed in a place like Neverland

. "Always and forever," she breathed. "I love them."

"Love," Peter scoffed dimly, floating above the ground then and looking to Wendy severely. "Always love with you girls. And is it ever happy love? No! It's the kind of love that makes you cry like you are now! If that's love, I want no part in it!"

Wendy knew better than to test Peter's temper, and instead hoped to channel such rage into a topic of which he was accustomed to have such feelings.

"Have you battled with any pirates, lately?" Wendy said, her tears long forgotten.

"Oh yes," Peter said audibly excited. "Why only last month we stormed an entire group of those monsters from attacking Tiger Lily and her tribe."

"How wonderful." Wendy encouraged, "What happened?"

Peter told his tale of how he and the Lost Boys had managed to capture several of Hook's men, even though they'd managed escape somehow later. Then of how Tiger Lily's tribe had made them a large banquet, and they'd sat around listening to the Chief dispense his own tales of intrigue. Wendy listened intensely, all the time not mentioning one key figure.

"You haven't even asked me about Hook." Peter said suddenly, looking to Wendy surprise as he finished his story. "Wasn't he always your favorite of all my enemies?"

"Oh, of course," Wendy said jerkily, "I was just about to inquire if you'd any duels with that beast. Has he lost his other hand yet?”

Peter grinned widely, and began to tell her of tales in which he and Hook had met over the course of her disappearance. Wendy drifted in and out, her thoughts suddenly turning to pale blue eyes. Of course she hadn't forgotten Hook. How do you forget a man who tried to murder you and all your loved ones? No, Wendy doubted she would ever forget Captain James Hook, she supposed she just didn't like to mention him.

She recalled him now, tall and menacing, looking down at her with those icy eyes that had once appeared calm and inviting. Suddenly she remembered in a moment how he'd had them all captive, tied up, in his ship. And that hook of his, shining and trailing down her neck as he rasped into her ear a promise of Peter's death. The claw had been so cold, and sharp against her flesh, her heart beating so loudly through her anger, she knew he could hear. And those eyes, those stormy, light eyes that consumed her even now. She shivered then at the dark memory.

"Wendy?" Peter suddenly broke in, "Are you feeling well?"

"Of course Peter," Wendy said flushing, "Why?"

"You suddenly look so frightened." Wendy did not answer, and Peter did not inquire further. They walked on a while more, until they reached a small waterfall, bathed in moonlight that shimmered in the rippling waves. Wendy smiled deeply, closing her eyes a moment to savor the moment. She would forever remember the sound of the waterfall, and the feel of the bright moon upon her.

"What are you closing your eyes for?" Peter asked confused, breaking into her thoughts. "You may miss something. There's always something to be seen here. "

"Sometimes it's the feel of the moment," Wendy suggested gently. "Not just the things in it that make a fond memory, Peter."

Peter gave her an unreadable look before motioning for her to follow. They'd been walking for a minute or so, drawing nearer to the waterfall when Peter had turned to her, looking solemn.

"Since you're so fond of closing your eyes," Peter said dimly, "Do so now, and don't open them until I say."

Wendy suppressed a small smile at the petulant tone of her companion, but did so tightly. She felt a small hand grasping her own and heard the distant sound of her feet against the grass below, and then smooth rock. The water rushing sound was growing louder and she felt sporadic plops of water against her face from time to time. Her hand was dropped.

"Now!"

Wendy opened her eyes quickly, and gasped a moment, a bit disoriented. Then, realizing she was standing with Peter behind a large waterfall. Wendy grinned widely, looking at the strangely lit cavern behind them and then the coursing water just steps in front of them. But what was giving off such light? It was then that she noticed small flecks of bright and shimmering light inside the water, casting small dots of light on Wendy and Peter's face.

"It's perfectly thrilling!" Wendy crowed, "What are those beads of light, Peter?"

"Water sprites," Peter announced joyfully, "They live within the waters of this enchanted waterfall. They're even smaller than Tink!"

Indeed they were small sprites, Wendy noticed on closer inspection. Small child shaped, water faeries that seemed a bit offended at she and Peter's intrusion. In fact, in quite a flash most of them had vanished, leaving she and Peter with darkness, and the comforting sound of the waterfall and their breathing. It was then that Wendy remembered the mouth of the tunnel she'd noticed in the light. She hoped that Peter had no reservations about-

"Shall we go exploring then?"

"Not in the dark!" Wendy insisted, horrified that Peter had intended on dragging her into that tunnel. "Why it's positively black in there, Peter!"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Peter laughed. "What if there are bats?"

"I'll bat them away!"

"And monsters?"

"I've my dagger."

"And...what of pirates?" Wendy offered darkly. "What if this is a trap. I insist we wait until morning when there is more light. Everything is less frightening in the light of day."

Peter heaved a mighty sight at that, and then relented, seeing how pale Wendy had grown at the mention of exploring the unseen cavern. He'd stumbled upon it just today and had saved it especially for Wendy.

"Not tomorrow." Peter retorted loudly over the waterfall. "I've a trip to make and won't return for several days."

"Alright," Wendy agreed. "Another time then."

Peter nodded, then as if on impulse: "Wendy?"

"Yes?"

"Nothing," Peter insisted quickly, grasping her wrist and pulling her alongside him as they rushed out from behind the waterfall and back to their comfortable home in the forest.

But Wendy knew, nothing was surely something after all.


	4. Proud and Insolent Youth!

"And now that the wicked ogre was gone for good, the brother and sister were able to go home to their sweet little cottage again, safe and sound." Wendy took a large look around the group of boys who looked at her awestruck. "The End."

Loud whooping noises of praise were heard all around, as Wendy blushed a very ladylike pink. The Lost Boys suddenly darted to their feet.

"That was most amazing," said Curly, genuinely pleased.

"Yes, tell us another!" begged Slightly.

It had scarcely been four days since Wendy had been here in Neverland. Glorious days in which adulthood was a disease and fun and games were a way of life. Why, she'd already played pirates, capture the flag (a completely different game from which you or I play) gone swimming several times, hunted for berries and sweets and played loads of other games. She was slowly reverting back into the pattern she'd set so many years ago. Peter had been gone just a few days on some mission unknown and although Wendy always found fun with the Lost Boys and endlessly enjoyed telling them tales of love, adventure and terror, there was something in Peter that she could not find in any other. And in that, she missed him terribly.

He had left without a word the morning after their trip behind the waterfall, and she was starting not only to miss, but worry for him.

How like a grown up.

But now, so like a child, she had found playmates to satisfy her for now. It would be a long while before she'd think of Peter again. Suddenly the twins rushed up to her, taunting her playfully as she grinned.

"Come on then Mother!" said the first grinning mischievously. "Try to catch us!"

"Yes, try and catch us!" said the other giggling.

And before Wendy could reply, they were already up into the air, calling over their shoulder that she was much too 'grown up' to catch them. As she was not one to back away from a challenge, Wendy got her happy though, and darted into the air like a bullet after the twins whose echoes she could faintly hear.

"You'll never catch us!"

"Oh yes I will!" Wendy flew up into the air, hot on the track of the two twins who were giggling manically as she raced after them. They threw their heads back in laughter, hiding behind a large cloud.

"Come and get us Wendy!"

"Yes, try!"

"I know where you are." Wendy promised, slowly floating around the sounds of their muffled giggling. It was far too easy to catch some of these boys, but she insisted on giving them a sporting chance. She was after all, the more mature one. The rest of the Lost Boys had obviously decided against joining them in the sky, and were probably cooking up another plan to entertain their guest.

Hours went by among the sky in which Wendy darted from cloud to cloud, searching and screaming in terrified delight as she found or was found by one of the twins. They were becoming experts at hiding, and it was taking her even longer to find the two. Suddenly, the bright sky grew dimmer, and she knew it was drawing to be nightfall. She looked down below through the clouds, seeing the bright lights from the villages and ship below. It twinkled up at her, making her realize how late it was.

She'd lost such time up here, and hadn't been able to see the twins in quite a while. The first pangs of fear began to tear through her, as she called their names, finding that she was suddenly very lost. There was a large booming sound from below, and she panicked.

"Boys?" She called frightened, looking round and round, finding the sky to be darkening in a most worrisome matter.

Without Peter here, the weather was likely to change so. Before Wendy could attempt to float further to the ground, there was a strange graph like shape, hurtling towards her. It was far too late before she realized it was tangled rope, and aimed right for her. It wrapped against her fleeting body tightly, as if she were like some of the strange mummy in an ancient sarcophagus she'd read about in school. She was trapped almost instantly, the weights at the corners hitting her side harshly.

Then before she'd had a moment to realize, she was falling, and no manner of happy thought would be able to save her.

As the air came up all around her, she screamed shrilly as she tumbled downward, attempting to clutch at the air as if it would find itself under her grip. It was so frightening, she felt as if her heart would cease immediately. Far too soon, she was nearing land...No, her blurred vision showed water. Oh Lord. She was going to drown! Her eyes were shut, and she began to scream through ravaged sobs. She could smell the salty scent of the ocean’s waves and she screamed loudly once more at the knowledge that she would drown.

"Peter!"

Her mouth was soon filled with the salty taste of the water as she slipped like a lost pearl into the depths of the dark and murky sea. Quickly she submerged and sank, her cries turning into transparent bubbles that raced to the surface. Her hair wrapped all around her face, blinding her. 'What if there are mermaids?' Wendy though crazily as she writhed in her rope bindings, her air slowly leaving her as she recalled those horrific women from the deep who would gladly eat her alive. Or worse...crocodile.

More panic. More blind searching. Wendy was sure she felt something tap her foot, and was convinced it was that damned crocodile, still yeaning for another taste of Hook! She refused to go in his place!

Her life was over. Until...Wendy felt it, something pulling her upwards out of the sea. Up where she would be able to breathe!

_Peter!_

She could have cried out in hope if it weren't for her gasping as she was finally pulled out of the water. Her eyes stung, and her hair clung to her cheeks wetly. Her lungs and throat burned, and she coughed raggedly. She shivered as the night air clung at her wet body, and she spat out the excess of the salty taste in her mouth. Her clothing was heavier now and dripping and she could barely see what was happening through her rope bindings.

She was still being pulled upward, surely as far from the ocean as possible, back to the fort where the Lost Boys would welcome her arrival with great- _Ouch_!

Her ankle skimmed the edge of something sharp and she called out in pain. Hopefully Peter would be more careful from now on. Suddenly her vision cleared, as she looked out through her bindings at the rippling ocean. Seeing she wasn't being pulled towards the woods, but upwards. She couldn't crane her neck upward, but soon detected the sounds of adult whooping and coarse laughter. Pirates!

"Oh no."

She banged against the side of the ship several more times before she felt the edge of the ship's ledge. The smell of rum, tobacco and other unmentionables soon invaded her senses and Wendy fought back an urge to shake. Suddenly she felt herself being hauled aboard, large hands around her body as she was placed onto the hard planks of the ship harshly.

She squealed out in pain, trying to stop the sensation by shifting slightly. She looked upwards through her roped prison, seeing the aged and dirtied face of familiar pirates. Her stomach churned as several came closer to her shivering form.

"Look who's back," Said Billy Jukes, giving her a once over rudely. "All growed up."

"A pity," said another older pirate Wendy couldn't name, "I like 'em better young."

They all began to laugh at that comment, as Wendy's eyes watered angrily. Hadn't she come to Neverland to get away from such foul adult things? And now here she was, at the mercy of some rag tag group of misfits!

"Release me at once!" Wendy demanded, looking angrily from one to another. She struggled to stand with dignity, and when she toppled they all laughed.

"Do as she says," said a familiar purr from the back, Wendy's ears immediately pricked up. "Immediately."

The men stopped laughing at once and did as the voice said. They stood her up, slicing her bindings as one held her, stopping her escape. Her hands were bound then, tightly and behind her back even though the struggled emphatically.

"This is not how a lady is to be treated," Wendy said stiffly, raising her chin in defiance. "I demand you release me at once, and return me to the shore."

Suddenly the group of large men parted, and a familiar tall and legendary figure emerged, looking to Wendy in a devious manner. He still looked the same. Tall, dark hair, stormy eyes that locked on hers the moment they met. That same presence that had her breathless even now.

"Ah, Miss Darling. A pleasure to see once more."

***********************

"What are we to tell Peter?" Nib asked the rest of the Lost Boys, looking to them in true fear. "He'll murder us when he realizes she's gone!"

"But where?" asked a young boy, fairly new to the group.

"Where else?" Mitts said gravely, "She's been kidnapped, by pirates."

"Hook."

Suddenly a familiar crow of victory was heard distantly overhead, and several pairs of eyes searched the distant heavens. There he was, Peter Pan himself. "I have brought Wendy a present!" Peter called happily to the Lost boys as he landed with two slightly familiar boys behind him.

"John?" Nibs inquired. "Michael?"

The two boys stepped forward, looking to the group with slightly familiarity. The older and taller had glossy black hair that was in a neat cut, and large glasses that made his light eyes look even larger. He looked to be about sixteen. Beside him stood a shorter boy, no older than Peter, with fairer hair and a light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. He smiled widely at the Lost Boys.

"Nibs?"

"It _is_ them!" Toodles called, as they all rushed over to the newcomers, talking animatedly of the changes until Peter whistled loudly.

"Where is Wendy?"

He asked when the voices had dimmed, and a low mumble of worry had begun. And so the twins told the tale, of how Wendy had been captured by the villainous Hook. Peter listed raptly, every now and then clenching his teeth of hands, or pulling his dagger from its holster on his hip.

"We have to do something!" John said suddenly horrified.

Now that they were no longer children, he was well aware of what death truly meant, it was real and it was frightening. It had taken their grandfather from them years ago. Peter was uncharacteristically silent a moment, before he raised his head heroically, looking to his collection of Lost Boys.

"We rescue Wendy, tonight."

**********************

Wendy could only gape as Hook stepped forward, her heart slamming about in her ribcage, causing her to wince visibly. Hook surveyed her casually, tilting his head slightly as he looked her up from head to toe, ending with a sly smirk.

"Do you know who I am, Miss Darling?"

Wendy's eyes grew large as he spoke once more, and she nodded solemnly as she eventually spoke dimly.

"Captain Hook."

"So you haven't forgotten," Hook said absently, motioning for the men behind her to bring her forth. They did so roughly, causing her to wince in pain.

"Unhand me!"

"You'd think after all these years we'd all be a memory," Hook was continuing as if she hadn't even spoken. "Neverland, Pan, myself. You'd think after you'd grown up it would all be a fond memory. In fact, I'm surprised Pan even remembered you."

Wendy said nothing, but had her eyes trained on the man before her. Her mouth was in a thin and angered line, and she stood straighter, attempting to show no fear. "This is no place for a reunion of such monumental proportions," Hook finally said, looking to the young women in amusement and then to his men.

"Bring her to my lodgings."

"NO!" Wendy screamed, trying to break free. "PETER! HELP ME!"

Hook was already disappearing below deck. The pirate grunted holding her covered her mouth with one grimy hand. Wendy still screamed, kicking frantically in hopes of escape. It was fruitless however. She was undoubtedly defeated. For now. When she was still, and fairly silent, the hand was removed, and she was roughly dragged down below, to a large cabin door where Hook surely resided behind, waiting eagerly for her. Sure enough, when the pirate knocked on the door, she heard the familiar silken purr of her captor and she grimaced visibly.

"Come in." The pirate holding her opened the door, pushing her inside in front of him.

Wendy gave a muffled squeal before she was pushed fully inside, and the door was closed behind them. The stale scent of tobacco and rum drifted around them in the cooling cabin, the only light the various candles glowing around them. Wendy didn't dare look up.

"I wish to speak to Miss Darling alone," Hook said to the burly pirate still holding Wendy tightly by the upper arm. "Leave us."

"Yes Captain."

At the sound of the door being slammed behind her, Wendy finally found the courage to look up into the familiar room. Not much had changed; still the large desk and cabinet, still the resplendent curtains and wooden smell around them, intermingling with the newly discovered scent of cologne. There was something so different and yet so the same in this place. Only then was Wendy able to fully look to the man responsible for her bound wrists and frantically beating heart. The man that haunted her dreams and waking moments.

The man that she at this moment hated more than anything. There, sitting languidly in his chair, his hooked hand hidden in his lap, and his good hand absently drumming on the desktop, was Captain Hook. He seemed less intimidating sitting down, but was an illusion Wendy knew would not last for long.

"I do apologize for the treatment Miss Darling," Hook offered gently, giving her a soft smile that she knew was a sham."But you see it was imperative you be bound and silenced."

"You sir, are no gentleman," Wendy said with angry tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "You are a coward!"

"A coward?" Hook said in mock surprise. "I, Captain James Hook, a coward? How did you ever come to that conclusion, my dear?"

Wendy grimaced at the false affection and instead held her chin higher. "Only a coward would take a child merely playing about in the sky."

"Or a wise strategist," Hook said smirking, then turned thoughtful as he glanced at her. "But I do not see a child before me, Miss Darling. Anything but."

"A child," Wendy went on ignoring him, "Who has never done you any harm. I may be friends with Peter, but I am certainly not the one who fed your hand to that crocodile."

Hook said nothing a moment, and then offered a grim smirk. "No, I suppose you yourself never did. But if you'd had the chance, if you'd been strong enough to overtake me and seal my doom, would you have acted upon it?"

Wendy fell silent, unsure of how to answer, for she was unsure of what she would have done. Right now she longed to do anything to get off this damned ship, but would she really have the strength to kill a man? Murder another living thing? She doubted it. She noticed he'd moved his chair back and she began to tremble in fear. She was going to die.

"You are a peculiar girl, Miss Darling." Hook said absently as he finally stood; coming over to the standing girl, ready to guide her to an open seat. His boots made a loud and yet dim clunk with every step he took. He didn't like her standing before him, plotting some easy escape. He stopped short in front of her however when he noticed her faintly trembling frame.

"I daresay you're terrified of me," Hook said, sounding completely surprised as he gazed down at the young woman only inches from him.

"I have no reason to fear you," Wendy ground out shakily, hoping her voice wasn't quaking as much as she. Her mouth was set then, in a thin line.

"And yet you do," Hook insisted darkly, eyeing her up and down dangerously slow. He moved closer, bending his head down slightly until they were eye level. Wendy couldn't help but note that his mouth was dangerously close. His own aroma of cigars and alcohol, a scent that she believed to be his and his alone, drifted around them like some invisible blanket. "You stand there positively trembling before me."

Hook said, the air from his words puffing lightly against Wendy's upper lip. His voice turned to that of dark interest.

"What is it that frightens you so now as an almost grown adult Miss Darling, but never did as a small child?"

Wendy did not answer, for she herself did not quite know. His mouth was still much too close, and she felt her face flushing, and she feared she was growing ill. There was a sudden glint in Hook's eyes, one that she had never seen in any man's eyes before. He stood up then, looking to her downcast eyes a moment in black humor.

"I think I know," he offered smugly, leaving her wondering. He moved behind her then, gently pushing her towards the chair. She felt the cold steel of the hook against her back, and she did as she was told, terrified that he was going to kill her before Peter could save her.

"What are you going to do to me?" Wendy whispered then, trying to hold back the terrified shakes beginning in her stomach.

"Tut tut," Hook murmured in her ear, "I'm afraid that would ruin the entire surprise, wouldn't it? And young women like you do so enjoy surprises, don't they?"

"Not from untrustworthy villains like yourself!"

"How serious you've become," Hook said, fighting back a smirk as he placed her roughly in the chair across from his own. He sat down in his large, cushioned chair and looked to Wendy in amusement. "Not at all the free spirited child I remember from not so long ago."

"Release me," Wendy warned once more, not wishing to remain alone with Hook in his cabin a moment longer. "Or prepare for the dire consequences that await you!"

Hook chuckled then, a low, gentle and placating chuckle an adult would use on an amusing child's antics.

"Wendy...Darling." Hook drawled dramatically when his grim laughter had subsided, as he pulled her chair close to him, so close their knees were now touching. She lowered her head in hot embarrassment in this lack of moral propriety. How dare he? But then he was gently using the side of his cold hook to tilt her defiant chin upwards, up until her eyes met his own and she could not find the strength pull back. And then he spoke, his voice rumbling as his words terrified her.

"You my dear, are not going anywhere."


	5. Dark and sinister man

When the initial fear had worn off at Hook's words, Wendy could only look at her childhood nemesis in exhausted fury. But it was a useless emotion to waste on a man like James Hook and a moment such as this since Wendy was very tightly bound and completely unable to escape. It was strange though, Wendy noted as she looked to the storybook Captain that to her he seemed even more real than from her childhood but also so out of place here before her.

"No tears?" Hook suddenly teased openly.

The sharp tip of his hook had come to graze her cheek as he spoke. Wendy turned her head from the hook jerkily, her heart racing at that icy touch. She struggled still, but her shoulders were begging to pain her as her hands were pulled tightly behind her back.

"Here,” Hook said softly, as his arms came to encircle Wendy. Startled, she pulled back and looked to him in horror. "Do you not wish for your shoulders to have some reprieve?"

Her knees were still painfully close to the Captain's, and she was trying to regulate her breathing as he stared down at her with a knowing smirk upon his cruel lips. Her cheeks reddened at that look.

"Yes sir." Wendy had always known that it wasn't proper to be this close to a man unless she and Hook were betrothed.

At that sudden repulsive thought, Wendy choked on a dark laugh. But his arms were around her tightly then, pressing his chest against her own. She flushed, knowing he could have easily gone behind her chair to do such an act. But it was the power he had over her, she knew. She felt his hook slowly sawing the thick rope bound around her wrists, and she feared he would grow sloppy in his work. She did not wish to lose any appendage, even as small as a finger.

But he was so close to her, so close she could smell the gunpowder upon his clothing, the tobacco scent that had gotten caught in his hair. It was a dangerous combination the two, something that had her more than uneasy. She wondered why he frightened her so much more now, than when she had been young. She deemed in the end that she had been much too naive those years ago. Now, she knew of the world and its horrors. She knew of death and of true fear, and she knew of men and their wants. His cheek was almost resting against her own now, as he continued his work on her bound wrists. The dynamic between she and Hook had certainly changed. She was no longer the small child and he the large monster.

She was almost a woman and he a man; a horrid man at that, but purely a man in the end.

"How you've changed," Hook whispered heavily to her, almost reading her prior thoughts. She found no use in replying to him. Moments later she faintly felt his remaining fingers trace lightly against her bound knuckles and she contained a shiver. It was a soothing sensation, brought on by those murderous fingers, although Wendy would never admit it. Soothing was not a work associated with Captain Hook.

This moment was more than disorienting. Again there was that moment of recollection, as if she were missing something so important to do with Hook. Surely it was because she'd been from Neverland so long. Memories of her time here were often fuzzy.

"Much better," Hook suddenly murmured in her ear, his lower lip grazing her ear before he pulled back. So in a daze had she been, Wendy didn't even notice that her wrists were now bound in front of her, resting dejectedly on her lap. She felt her face flush angrily at her own lack of concentration.

Did she think this was a joke? That he didn't intend on murdering her the moment he felt the desire? She was too late.

Moments passed slowly, the rocking of the ship seemed to stop, and Wendy noticed the sky outside was a midnight blue. For some reason, this reminded her of the Captain's own eyes, such a brilliant shade of blue and so she looked to him. She saw the familiar weathered face of a man that had been through much, with dark curls that cascaded down his shoulders. The minor beard growth and glossy trademark moustache.

The mouth she viewed was curved into a familiar sneer, and she recalled that he was most sinister when polite. When she viewed his profile a moment, she noticed he had a truly regal quality to him, as if he'd been born into privilege, and only in his late life come to know the life of a pirate.But it was his eyes she would recall forever, for when he was calm there were a most serene blue that made her think of the clearest sky, though they were indeed melancholy.

But when he was vexed they did indeed obtain a piercing red hue. At it was then, as she looked to the profile of Captain James Hook, that it all came together. Suddenly, as if hit with a thunderbolt, she knew the reason of her curiosity.

"How did you ever escape?" Wendy said in a soft voice, her eyes drawing to the captain's rough face. She saw mirrored confusion in those pale blue eyes of his and a vulnerable aura as she realized he had no idea of what she was referring to. But how could she or he have ever forgotten?

Slowly Wendy's mind was coming together, for Hook's final moment. Hook was fighting now without hope. That passionate breast no longer asked for life; but for one boon it craved: to see Peter show bad form before it was cold forever.

_Seeing Peter slowly advancing upon him through the air with dagger poised, Hook sprang upon the bulwarks to cast himself into the sea._

_He did not know that the crocodile was waiting for him for the clock had been stopped. He had one last triumph._

_As he stood on the bulwark looking over his shoulder at Peter gliding through the air, he invited him with a gesture to use his foot. It made Peter kick instead of stab._

_At last Hook had got the boon for which he craved._

_"Bad form," he cried jeeringly, and went content to the crocodile._

 

"Thus perished James Hook."

"What did you just say?"

Wendy's glazed eyes grew alert, as she looked back to the irritated Captain. She hadn't realized she'd said the final words aloud.

"You were killed," Wendy finally spoke hollowly, looking to Hook as if he were a living ghost. "By that horrid crocodile."

"Silly girl," Hook snidely remarked after moments had passed. "You haven't the faintest what you're talking about."

But his eyes were the true testament, for they were troubled, Wendy could plainly see. Suddenly there were cries from the deck, and Wendy saw several shipmates rushing by the cabin window. She looked up to see Hook's prior look of worry replaced with malicious glee. Smee suddenly burst into the cabin, panting and looking crazily to Hook. "Captain!" he said breathlessly.

"He's here!" And Wendy knew at that moment who was causing the disturbance. She knew that she had not been forgotten.

"Peter." Wendy breathed in hope, her voice momentarily drowning in relief.

Hook's smirk immediately dropped, and he stood up.

"Get the cannons ready!" he shouted at Smee, who nodded and slammed the door after his departure.

"And now for you," Hook said he as he began advancing on the nearby Wendy, grasping her upper arm tightly in his left hand. "Pick up that lantern."

Wendy squealed in pain at his grasp, but through her wrist's confinement, she eventually grasped the rusty lantern momentarily. But as he tried to pull Wendy along, her legs locked in fear. Did he intend on murdering her? Hanging her off the side of the boat?

"Come with me. Now," Hook snarled, raising his hook at the level of Wendy's eyes and she held in a gasp. "Of course you're familiar with this, aren't you my dear?"

Wendy said nothing, but as the hook drew nearer, her eyes grew wider.

"Unless you wish to have a rather unfortunate reunion, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and obey my orders," Hook added roughly, dragging a staggering Wendy along with him into the darkness. "Where are you taking me?" Wendy's voice was high and quaking. She and Hook had rushed into a dark and unknown room and he had been uncharacteristically silent.

"Silence." Hook murmured dangerously and poor Wendy obliged.

Hook began to tap the heel of his boots against the floor from time to time. Wendy felt the wooden floorboards under her bare feet, and suddenly felt as they grew more flimsy and Hook's tapping ceased to come again. Strange. Hook's hand was then removed from her upper arm, and that made her more frightened. For at least in his grasp, she knew fear was still yet to come.

Without warning, Hook had taken and lit the lantern she'd been holding. It blazed up, casting dark shadows all around the small and unfamiliar room. He quickly placed it on the ground at his feet, his eyes never leaving her frame. Wendy watched in mute shock as Hook then removed the revolver from its holster on his belt. It gleamed sinisterly in the candlelight and caused a small wave of nausea to pass through her.

"Please," Wendy begged shakily, her eyes glued onto the large revolver.

"No." Hook pointed the weapon at Wendy lazily, ignoring her cries. She shut her eyes tightly, turning her head on instinct. She heard faint clicking and shuffling from in front of her, and she shuddered.

"Open your eyes, girl." Hook said scornfully, and she did so eventually. Before her lay a small square in the floor, big enough for a grown man to fit into. Beside it, lay the small wooden square which when replaced in the holes opening would easily mask the hiding place. She realized that the Captain had only brandished his gun in the first place, should she attempt to run whilst he opened the top of the secret cove below the floorboards.

"I've read of these," Wendy said in shock at his actions and her life still intact. She knew that the pirates had obviously made some sort of solitary confinement, or prison in the bottom level of the ship.

"I have no doubt of that," Hook said distractedly before coming over to the wary girl.His left hand seized her arm again, and he pushed her towards the hole.

"You wish me to go down into it?" Wendy said in the wake of her dawning comprehension of the situation.

"What else?" Hook said surprised. "There are steps for your footing."

"But, it's so very dark," Wendy argued, her voice quivering slightly. Now Wendy Darling was a brave girl, she had fought pirates, flown into the clouds, walked the plank and lived through finishing school, but there is always something to be feared in dark and unknown places. Wendy pushed herself backwards, not caring if she was nearer to Hook. She backed away from the hole until her back was against the tall captain's chest. She heard him sigh in irritation and his hand was removed from her arm.

"Then the choice is up to you, dear girl," Hook said, the cold feel of the weapon's mouth upon Wendy's temple and the metallic click of the trigger suddenly echoing in her ears. "Which do you fear more? Momentary darkness? Or my revolver?"

Moments later, Wendy was tentatively making her way down the shaky steps, leading into the underbelly of the ship. The sound of water was more prominent, and she suddenly felt extremely suffocated. It was a small room, one that she could sit in comfortably. She placed the lantern on the floor before her, and it lit the small space. Wendy was pleased to note that the small hiding place held nothing of the frightening nature. She knew Hook intended on leaving her here until the battle was over. She was his souvenir.

She also knew, that should Hook lose the battle, Peter would never think to look for her here. She was surprised to see Hook descend down the steps to join her moments later. Hiding from this battle? What a coward.

"Do you not care if your men are slain?" Wendy whispered testily, looking to Hook with irritation.

"Pan may attempt to slay as many of my men as he desires," Hook said almost lazily. "He will never find you down here, my dear. He will never get his greedy little hands on you, and that is more valuable to me than the life of those pathetic miscreants on deck."

"How cruel you are," Wendy whispered sadly, feeling pity for those who had wronged her. This was much to grown up a feeling, Wendy eventually decided. Hook let himself gaze at the solemn girl a moment, before letting his good hand fall onto her nearby kneecap. Wendy started at the contact and her eyes widened as Hook looked with piercing ferocity into her face.

"Take your hands off of me, sir." Wendy almost growled, her eyes darkening.

"So grown up," Hook said, musingly. "And yet so naïve…Do you not wonder why Pan brought you back after all these years, Miss Darling?"

Wendy started at him blankly, her eyes unwaveringly blank. She hadn't a clue to what he was alluding.

"No," Hook said removing his hand from her knee. "I don't suppose you do."

He moved then to the steps, preparing to leave her down below while the battle raged on up top. But evidently he wasn't the coward she'd believe him to be moments before. "But what if something happens?" Wendy began to cry shrilly, trying to rise to her feet.

"What if the ship begins to sink?" Hook turned slowly, his light eyes merrily taking all of her anxiety and fear in, drinking it like some aged drink he enjoyed imbibing.

"Knowing I have you waiting for me, here in my grasp," Hook said sinisterly as he looked the disheveled young woman up and down."Will surely motivate me to victory."

Wendy turned her stricken face from him then, wishing nothing more than to slap that knowing smirk right off of his pallid face. "Until then, I bid you farewell, my beauty." It was then with a dashing tip of his dark hat in Wendy's direction, that Hook rushed up the rickety stairs, and quickly closed the small square of light.

This small ray of light that had been Wendy's only real means of hope.


	6. Oh man unfathomable

"Advance!" Peter shouted as the Lost Boys boarded the Jolly Roger, their weapons raised, and war paint all over their faces

. The pirates waited eagerly, their countless scars and tattoos their only war paint. There was a great loud noise from both sides, and young versus old were caught once more in a timeless battle.

"Get them!" Hook's bellow sounded out far louder than any of the other men on ship. He had just appeared from below deck, looking thoroughly pleased one moment, and then in a complete frenzy as his light eyes fell on the boy who flew by him with confident ease.

"Never!"

The boy who has been quite the figure in many tales of adventure, gave a mocking laugh at his old adversary and soared up behind the sails of the Jolly Roger. His shadow, with hands on hips, mocked the irritated Captain on the deck. Booming sounds of cannons went off all around, splinters of wood flew by several, screams on both sides were echoing on the high seas, with Hook and Peter in the middle of it all.

"Captain!" called a faceless pirate at Hook's side, "He's too high; we'll never reach him! It'll be better if-"

Those pirates nearby, who knew what was to come, all gave a slight grimace but continued on fighting the Lost Boys, or rounding up on cannonballs to fire at the children.There was a horrid tearing sound, and those who had little sense, turned back to see a fallen shipmate, drowning in a thick sea of red. Hook however, seemed completely unfazed at his massacre, his clear eyes instead searching the sky above.

Peter peered from behind the sail, looking to the Captain's eyes and was inexplicably at a loss. The piercing red that often overtook Hook's eyes during times of adventure such at this, was missing. His melancholy blue eyes were hiding, what the smirk on his lips made clear. Wendy.

*****

Wendy Darling, the main pawn in this entire game, happened to be at that very moment, hunched in the corner of her small sanctuary. She had heard something being shuffled above her then Hook's boots click along the wooden planks above her, before the slam of the door was the last she heard. She hadn't been able to hear much after that, no matter how much the poor girl strained her ears.

The roar of cannons, yes of course. But she hadn't heard Peter's cry of victory, or the Lost Boys calling for her.

Had they simply forgotten?

How like children.

It was getting difficult to breathe, she noticed and tried to calm her heart, which felt like a frantic bird beatings its wings about in its confining cage. She was becoming breathless. Hook intended to kill her. What if Hook had been lying? What if this was a game in which she would never win? Yes, Hook had said she would indeed inspire him to victory. But did she really think he'd ever release her? Did she think he'd actually care if she was left to rot in this godforsaken place?

She did not cry however. Even though things seemed entirely hopeless, Wendy was not one to simply sit back, weep and let things be no matter how bad they got. No. It was time to really think. Her eyes drew to the flame in the lantern, a small flame that flickered, drawing her eyes and hypnotizing her. She recalled then, her mother's tales of the danger of being hypnotized by fire. How one should never stare at a flame, for hidden behind its almost innocent flicker, there is a danger.

But Wendy was no longer in London, she was at the bottom of a pirate ship with her friends, nay- her almost children on deck, fighting for her imminent release. Slowly her pale hand made its way into the lantern, slowly prying the small candle, from its waxy surroundings. The single flame flickered in her eyes, it's image forever burning into her mind. It was so small a candle, a small, white candle that had more power than she.

Was she willing to sacrifice her own life for those of the boys onboard?

Wendy knew that life would indeed not be worth living if Hook won this battle. And with his sudden inner strength at her captivity, she had a horrid feeling of who was to win. If Hook was to win, she was most definitely to lose.

With that thought in her mind, Wendy let the flame fall.

****

 

On deck the men and boys fought gloriously against one another, their battle cries taking over the ocean. But Peter suddenly stopped in his merriment.

"Wendy." Peter repeated the name once more, his eyes losing their mischievous glint and growing more somber. In his excitement at the prospect of taking over the Jolly Roger once more, he had almost forgotten the one thing that had spurred such an event such as this.

"Toodles!" Peter called down to his friend, the only one who wasn't engaged in a battle. His wide eyes flew upward, looking to the half hidden hero of children everywhere. "Wendy!"

Toodles nodded ardently at Peter's cry, scurrying behind the pirates were locked in battle with the valiant Lost Boys. There was much yelling and fighting, but so far, no serious injuries, aside from the Captain's bad form earlier.

"PAN!"

Not surprisingly, Hook had sought out Peter at his most vulnerable moment, and now had a revolver aimed at the young man's chest. Of course Peter could have flown away in a matter of seconds, but it wasn't that which foiled the Captain's plan.

"Fire!"

Hook's eyes were drawn to the voices shouting the horrified chant all over, and his heart suddenly twisted painfully.

"Captain! Look!" Smee called, over the sounds of swords being clashed together, and the cannons being periodically fired at Peter when he flew around the ship with unnerving ease. There was sudden pandemonium on the ship, as pirate and Lost Boy alike looked to the center of the ship, near the Captain's main cabin, where smoke was starting to snake out onto the deck. Thick, black and gray smoke that were surely coming from...

For once, Hook's attention was not on victory, but on the prize he had foolishly looked up in the bottom of the ship. A girl he thought wouldn't be foolhardy or just plain stupid enough to set her only safe place on fire. Sadly, it was in that one moment in lapsed concentration that Peter Pan, famed for his skills in swordplay and flying, happen to dart in front of the Captain, and place a large sword at the man's neck.

Not to be outdone, Hook's claw had come up in front of his neck just in time to stop the motion of Pan's sword from being fatal. Time seemed to stop then in amidst the smoke and fire. Lost Boy and pirate alike stopped their swordplay, and looked to the two sides, good and evil locked in a battle of strength and pure luck. Their stormy eyes were locked on one another, their mouths clenched. Peter was still in the air, looking down on the Captain as his sword began to push harsher.

Hook's eyes widened ever so slightly, but Pan caught the motion and smirked. But for those of you who know of Hook and his many battles, know that he is not a man that is to be underestimated. For even through the thickest and bleakest at times he is a man that does not give up easily. For in Peter's smile, he saw worry as the smoke began to cloud around them, causing him to cough.

"She's trapped you know," Hook growled, not moving just yet. Peter's eyes were reddening from the smoke, and yet his determination made him unwavering. "She'll never make it."

"You will die," Peter hissed furiously, his blade digging into Hook's claw. At the close proximity, Hook was able to see the freckles of youth dotted across the boy's nose, the rounded face that would never mature, and save for the panic and fury now, eyes that were almost always a clear blue of innocent carefree. In that, Hook felt more envy that ever before, and anger at the youth's greed.

Pan had every joy and privilege that other children could never know or even dream of. And yet, he wanted to take the one thing that Hook wanted. A storyteller, an educated young lady, a girl whom Pan could easily replace with another imaginative girl from London. But then again Hook wasn't blind. He saw the pain in Pan's eyes at the prospect of Wendy's danger.

Somehow he knew that she was one that would fade from Pan's memory, but it would take longer than several years. And his motivations for keeping dear Wendy most certainly weren't solely for her story telling talents. But like Pan, he knew Wendy would not survive for long. A part of him was almost convinced she was dead at this very moment. A perverse thought surely, and something that seemed wholly wrong.

"If you kill me," Hook spat furiously into the boy's clouded face. "She dies too."

"You're a liar!" Peter shouted furiously, his arms shaking as he tried in vain to push the blade through the thick metal of the claw. "I'll find her."

"Not in time," Hook almost purred. He saw the look on Pan's face, saw the torn expression and saw in an instant child and adult dueling within the young boys’ eyes. Like clockwork, the blade was lowered and Pan had darted a few feet away, looking to Hook.

"I will spare your life," Peter said darkly, "In return for hers."

"You have my word," Hook said reluctantly, rubbing his neck absently before adding a soft, "Good form, Pan."

He looked to the fuming boy who was preoccupied with the smoke, reminding Hook that there were bigger things to be concerned over. Revenge suddenly fleeted from Hook's mind, he rushed into the burning cabin.

***

Wendy's faint and final prayers were almost finished, and she lowered her heavy hands onto her lap. The smoke was thick, and she could cough no longer, she closed her eyes gently. It hadn't been that long, she knew. She'd covered her mouth and stayed near the bottom of the small box like cove for at least ten minutes. The end was near, it had to be. Peter could not save her now. There had been more smoke than fire, but the angry red flames weren't that far away.

Soon they would catch to the end of her dress, and then she would be a charred skeleton whom no one ever saw again. She wished then that she could go back to London, she wished for the millionth time that she had apologized and never come back. Neverland was not as it had been, for she was not as s

he had been. Hook. For some reason, her mind drifted to him then. She wished she had more energy to curse his name, but it was growing too foggy, and it was taking so much effort just to keep her sense about her. She made an ardent wish, that her corpse would be retrieved from this pit, and buried somewhere near that sprite littered waterfall.

She hoped that her actions had served some purpose. And she mainly hoped that she wasn't dying for-

Before she could finish that depressing sentiment, the small square above her head was lifted, and there was Hook's face, angry and worried all at the same time. Wendy had never been more worried and at the same time more thankful to see a man like Hook in her entire life. How had he battled the flames and smoke? How had he managed to pull that rug off the ground, covering the hole? What did it matter anymore?

He was there, calling to her, even though she could not hear. He had come back! She was saved! Sadly poor Wendy's relief was short lived, for at that moment, the blackness that had been pulling at her, dragging her into unconsciousness had now won, and before she could reach one shaking hand up to grasp Hook's own, she was lured into darkness.

"Wake up you stupid girl!" Hook barked frantically, looking to the girl's pale face as she slumped against the wall of the pit.

"Wake up!" Hook growled in frustration, and grasped the girl's collar. She was dead weight, and in turn heavy to retrieve. A few grunts and pulls later, and she was pulled free of the smoke and flames. He cradled her limp body tightly against his chest, looking to her briefly, seeing her dark hair freed from its prior confines, and the lips parted seemingly in death. He looked to the door of the cabin, and viewed as men started piling into the cabin, dousing it in recently fetched water. They hadn't encountered something like this for some time. Hook heard the cabin creaking, and noticed the floorboards underneath him were growing thin.

He flung the girl over his shoulder then, his hook waiting for anyone who dared get their way. Not one soul did.They finally made it into the open air of the ship, with the Lost Boys and Peter waiting. Several pirates were waiting for the Captain, and stood at his side, pistols and daggers at the ready. Peter saw Wendy's pale form over Hook's shoulder, and his face immediately dropped.

The sky around them began to darken, and distant thunder began to rumble. By then, all of the men inside the cabin had returned on deck, informing Hook that the fire was out, and not too much damage had been caused. Hook was pleased to hear this, but as usual Pan ruined his good spirits.

"You've killed her."

"I haven't," Hook said quickly, giving the boy a most sinister sneer."She's simply inhaled too much smoke. My men will see to her quick recovery I assure you."

By men of course, Hook meant Smee. The only trustworthy one on board. He nodded to the aforementioned pirate who came forth, standing beside the Captain. Hook heaved the young woman off his shoulder and handed her to Smee, who barely faltered, gathering the girl in his arms like an oversized doll.

"See that Miss Darling is taken to my private room," Hook said with a flourish, looking back to see Pan look positively stricken. Smee nodded and disappeared down a separate cabin.

"No!" Peter cried, preparing to charge forward before Slightly and Curly grasped him, holding him back.

"You promised me! I spared your life you-"

"And I spared hers," Hook interrupted, his voice attaining an innocent lilt. Peter looked to him intensely, almost begging with his eyes for the safe return of his childhood companion. “But I never swore to return her to you. Only to see that she didn’t die today.”

Peter let out a cry of furious outrage as his friends held him back, knowing no good could come when they were so outnumbered, and Hook obviously had the upper hand.

"Take your lot off my ship and never return." Hook suddenly warned; his voice and eyes becoming icy as he and Pan locked eyes once more. "Or I will kill your dear Wendy; I can honestly promise you that."

"How do I know you won't lie again?" Peter hissed, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. "You can't ever be trusted."

"I'm afraid boy," Hook said with saccharine sweetness. "You have no choice."

There was a sickly silence, in which only Peter's shallow breaths were heard over the roar of the ocean. When Peter's face had paled, and his eyes no longer held that of insane frenzy, his friends released him.

"We shall leave then." Peter said with fury burning in his eyes as he looked to a haughty sea Captain. "But hear me, Hook. If I find that any harm has come to Wendy, any harm at all...You will not live long enough for even _I_ to enjoy your death."

"I'm positively terrified, Pan." Hook said flatly, before giving his shipmates a nod to attack if they stayed on board.

But Peter and the Lost Boys were already overboard, and heading back to the Jungle. Hook gave one last victorious smirk in the famed Pan's direction before turning on one well-placed heel, to the destination where a dazed and newly frightened Wendy Darling was just coming to.


	7. Ah, envy not Hook

_It was all a dream. I'm home._

_It was all a dream._

Wendy coughed raggedly, her entire body racking as she slowly woke from her temporary coma. Slowly her dark lashes parted, and her eyes opened, taking in a large room she hadn't encountered before. It was dimly lit and taking a large glance at the small porthole to her left, Wendy viewed it was sunset. This gave the room an almost reddish glow, but it seemed a harsh red, an angry red.

The entire room had a scent of masculinity, of something musky and formidable. There was a large bookcase at one end of the cabin, filled with several interesting looking volumes. There were several candles about in ornate holders, a basin filled with water at one side of the cabin, a dresser drawer that seemed rather old and dusty with a cracked mirror atop of it. There was a small square box on top of the dresser and while Wendy was intrigued to know what it held, her attention was suddenly drawn to where she now lay. It was incredibly soft, and extremely decadent.

Why, her own bed at home would never compare!She viewed the embroidered pillows, the soft ruby red of the blankets she was atop of. Slowly the fog was being lifted from the girl's mind, and she suddenly felt an icy grip of panic around her heart, squeezing tightly until she found she was quite breathless.

 _What of the fire?_ Poor Wendy thought wildly, surely it had burnt most of the ship? Surely they still weren't aboard the Jolly Roger?

"Then where am I?" she inquired to no one in an awed whisper.

"Miss Wendy?" Wendy let out a large gasp at the familiar face that came into view by the door of the cabin. Smee. He'd been so still and blended into the cabins dim lighting so well, she hadn't even recognized him in her initial viewing of the room.

"Hello there little one," Smee said almost kindly, coming to stand at the end of the large bed that Wendy was now sitting up in. His voice was soft, and almost nervous.

"Are you peckish?"

Wendy nearly gaped at the civility of the question, and whom it was coming from. She was still in a daze, and could only think to ask the one question that had plagued her since she had awoken."Where am I?"

"Why, aboard the Jolly Roger," Smee said with a chuckle, his light eyes twinkling merrily, causing him to look more and more like the fabled Santa Claus Wendy knew of. "Where else?"

Wendy fell silent, her eyes wide and disbelieving. They fell to her hands, clasped in her lap. She sniffled back the tears now, knowing that obviously Hook had won. Peter was surely dead, along with the Lost Boys. She was never to be free. He would surely murder her now with Peter out of the equation. How would he kill her? She wondered darkly, her stomach churning. Revolver? Walking the plank? Poison?

Suddenly her face paled as she came to the feared conclusion... His claw? She heard faint clattering, and before she could look up to see where the commotion had risen a plate of what looked like three day old stew and a stale piece of bread were placed in front of her on a silver platter. Wendy looked to the expectant Smee.

"Thank you," She responded respectfully, though she was obviously broken in spirit and hope.

"You're very welcome, Miss," Smee said slowly, as if trying in vain to remember correct manners.

Wendy could feel his eyes on her, surely waiting for her to take a bite of what he offered her. Surely it was poison, Wendy decided. And so knowing that death was to be imminent, and not as painful as she had imagined, Wendy Darling raised the bread to her lips, and thought of home. Home. Before she could take a bite, the door to the cabin was flung open, and in strode Hook looking his part. His smirk was sinister, as was the look he directed to a stricken Wendy.

"Miss Darling," He purred, glancing at her small form on his large bed. She was paler than moments before, causing the smudges of charcoal to stand out on her cheeks and nose. Smee suddenly darted to Wendy, taking the tray of food from her and placing it atop the dresser. Hook watched Wendy through all of this, viewing the disappointment in her eyes as the food was taken from her, her eyes fixated upon a kindly Smee.

Suddenly Hook was overtaken with jealousy at the attention the round bellied Smee was receiving whilst he, Captain James Hook, was being thoroughly ignored. It simply did not happen.

"Smee," Hook said with authority at his silent shipmate.

"I wish to speak with Miss Darling in private."

"Of course Captain." Smee gave a curt nod to Wendy and Hook before he went rushing out into the darkening evening, closing the cabin door quietly behind him.

Then it was just she and Hook. The two of them at opposing sides of the cabin looking to one another warily. Wendy didn't dare speak, for fear of rousing his legendary temper. Hook removed his hat, placing it on the chair beside the drawer that Wendy hadn't noticed before; following soon after was his decorative overcoat. She watched his methodic movements in sheer frightened silence.

Soon he stood before her in nothing but his white shirt, vest, trousers and boots. Still he was broad shouldered and intimidating, and she shuddered as he drew nearer. He stopped at the basin, dropping a cloth into it and bringing it to the side of the bed. He placed it beside Wendy, looking to the girl under hooded eyes. Her eyes were on the claw he kept at his side, almost as if ashamed of its mere presence.

Then her eyes drew curiously to the basin of lukewarm water in mild interest. Hook slowly sat himself at the edge of the bed, looking to her carefully. He allowed this moment of careful inspection as she looked everywhere but his face. He knew she feared him. For now. Her knee was inches from his and her back seemed rigidly straight. Such ladylike manners, he had almost forgotten how they brought up young girls in London these days.

He almost sighed then, at what lady like Wendy Darling had done in the cellar below. "You foolish girl," Hook murmured as his left hand grasped the washcloth in the basin. Best as he could, he drained some of the water out of it before raising it to Wendy's face. She darted back slightly, looking to his eyes now as timid as a deer caught in its familiar forest. She raised one hand slightly, wincing as if expecting to be slapped roughly with the washcloth in Hook's hand.

"Where is Peter?"

Hook's teeth ground together at her words, but he did not show his irritation upon his face. "Gone."

"Dead?" Wendy said almost fearfully.

"No," Hook replied easily, his countenance relaxed. "If he had perished, I would have told you as such. No, Pan is simply gone from this ship, never to return."

Wendy was unsure of how to react to this news. Yes, she was overjoyed at Peter's escape...but never to return? How could that ever work? She looked to the Captain's face in curious confusion, her eyes scanning his face freely.

"But, you don't seem upset."

"That is because I am not upset, my beauty," Hook said almost grinning as he spoke. "For I have my prize."

Wendy's face colored at this sentiment, and she grew suddenly uncomfortable under Hook's familiar and predatory gaze. Again his hand and washcloth were raised inclining towards her face, and again she drew back from his almost touch.

"Do not move again," he said sternly, the side of his claw coming to rest atop her hand. It was a cold jolt to her senses, and she muffled a cry of surprise and sudden fright.

"I would hate to have to harm you further."

Wendy didn't believe what he said at all, but she stilled, her breathing almost stopping as Hook's hand went to her face once more. She watched as the damp washcloth brushed against her cheek. It was such a gentle touch Wendy could barely believe it was the Captain's hand. She was confused at his motions until she saw the dark smudges upon the cloth and she found the strength to speak.

"Why aren't you upset with me?" Wendy inquired softly, looking to his clear eyes focused upon the bridge of her nose as he brushed the cloth against it. "I thought for certain you would be furious about the fire.

"It was half my doing," Hook replied almost embarrassedly. "I left you to your own devices alone down there with a flame. I suppose I just assumed you weren't foolish enough to attempt death. But I should have known by now that you are not like most women, Wendy."

When he said her name, she suppressed a shiver. It was the heavy tone in which he said it, accompanied by the slow downward movement of the cloth against her neck. And it was how he had called her a woman, not in the accusatory fashion her parents seemed to favor, but more as if it were a title that she had earned in entering womanhood. The cloth hadn't stopped at her neck, Wendy noted, her eyes still locked with the unfathomable man before her. His dark hair behind him, his light eyes so uncharacteristically suited to his dark features they seemed to hypnotize. Now the washcloth was now dragging itself down her neck, landing in the hollow at middle of her collar, and causing her heart to hiccup.

Hook noted the chest that had begun to heave slightly under his ministrations, and his lips had parted the moment the movement had started. But still his eyes were upon her, wanting her to fully succumb to him. Her skin was clean now, and glistening in the candlelight from the water. The washcloth circled her collarbone now; preparing to go downward should she let him.

"Did the fire do much damage?" Wendy inquired loudly, wishing that the sound would stop the movement upon her collar immediately. Her wishes were granted, for his hand fell slowly.

"Not much at all. The only damage you managed to inflict was upon yourself," Hook lied casually, placing the cloth back into the basin. "Now, don't look so disappointed. It was a valiant effort worthy of any pirate."

"I do not wish to be a pirate," Wendy said gently, "I am no longer a child."

"Of that fact," Hook murmured gently, "I am well aware."

Before she knew what was happening, Wendy felt the strong hand of Hook around her neck, bring her face to meet his own. She could not pull back, for the claw rested now on the small of her back. His breath was hot against her cheek, and his eyes were piercing. All the stories in the world she had told of this legendary man, down to the last detail. She had been through adventures great and small, but nothing prepared her for the feeling that went through her as she realized that Hook's mouths was inches from her own. He was looking hungrily to her mouth in that moment in a fashion that was much too overwhelming for Wendy to fully comprehend.

She had never been party to a real man, and a real man's needs. She wasn't betrothed, and in London society it was highly inappropriate for this kind of behavior. It was then through all of these worries and thoughts, that Wendy was introduced to Hook's mouth, for his lips were now roughly pressed against her own. Her eyes were widened in horror as his mouth covered her own; his own eyes closed languidly even through Wendy's frozen state.

Then as his lips began to move, caressing her. Wendy felt her stomach bottom out completely. The world went slowly then, in a haze cloud of warm red. Wendy could feel every hair on her body standing on end, pulling almost painfully in her skin. She could smell the cologne Hook must have put on this morning, felt his soft curls brush her cheek and could sense the need for her kisses radiating from Hook's powerful mouth.

Hook brought her unwilling form closer to his own, his hand trailing from the back of her neck to gently cup her burning cheek. Her lips were so soft, and her body so warm and clean smelling that Hook was nearly dizzy with delight. It had been a long while since he'd had a real lady to warm his bed. He nipped her lower lip tenderly, and was rewarded with a soft gasp.

He pulled the silent Wendy Darling closer to him then, hoping that the suffocating proximity would muffle the incessant pulsation currently going through his entire form. But of course, something was amiss. She wasn't struggling like the other wench's, but it was just as bad as she wasn't moving at all. He pulled back a moment when he felt she wasn't responding, gazing into her face only to see woeful eyes filled to the brim with tears.

"What are you doing?"

Hook felt a wave of disgust at her timid words, disgust directed at Wendy or himself he wasn't sure. But he was certain of the anger that accompanied such a feeling and he quickly pushed the young girl from him roughly. She fell onto her elbows on the bed, her eyes focused upon him as he stood quickly. He began slowly pacing back and forth beside the bed, his eyes falling on her frame a minute before whisking away to the dresser.

This seemed to calm him, and before long his entire countenance seemed much more in control.

"I apologize," Hook finally intoned flatly, clearly showing Wendy that he didn't mean a word of what he said. "All my manners seem to have briefly left me I'm afraid."

Wendy said nothing; for fear that her words would only provoke him to kiss her further, or worse. She watched his tall frame at the door, his eyes stealing glances at her when he believed she wasn't looking. Hook kissing her? It was all so surreal. Nothing like the stories she had made up. Romance of course was usual in her stories, but this was no story.

Her stomach was still fluttering slightly, and she swallowed thickly to stop the feeling, but it would not let up. Like fairy dust it covered all of her, causing her skin to prickle in a most shiver-inducing manner. It was wrong to be kissed by a man like Hook.

"Tell me a story," Hook suddenly demanded, looking disheveled and confused and suddenly far too humane. Wendy was unsure of what to do, or what story to tell the irritable sea Captain.

"I'm afraid I don't feel much like telling a story." Wendy was drawing her knees up to her chest and curling her arms around them tightly. Her mind and stomach were still whirling from what had just happened. She felt so small then, so small and so very alone.

"I do not enjoy being talked back to, Wendy dear," Hook said dramatically, his mouth had taken on a sneering quality then, his eyes darkening. "I suggest you think of a story quickly."

Wendy gazed up at the looming figure of Hook. He was such a confusing and complex man, and none of her stories about him could help her in deciphering what exactly made him do what he did. It was all so very unsettling for she never knew what to expect of him.

"What about?" She finally sighed.

"Anything you wish," Hook responded quickly, his back to her and his eyes out the cabin window, looking at the placid sea reflecting in the dimly red sunset atop it.

It was so red outside, it was frightening. Wendy was suddenly very sad, and very tired. But she knew better than to get him in a foul mood. But as with most storytellers, her tales did reflect her mood. Had Wendy been in a better mood, she may have told Hook of tales of intrigue and the high seas, battles with dragons and the lot. But poor Wendy was in a very melancholy mood as she sat there upon Hook's bed, and so her short tale was tinged with that of incomparable sadness. Sadness that she did not know Hook currently shared.

"O _nce upon a time, there was a beautiful garden in the yard of a beautiful home where two young children lived, brother and sister." At this, Wendy's eyes grew glassy, but she continued undeterred. "One day there was a great snowfall in their town, and their garden and home were covered in beautiful white flakes, as far as the eye could see. The brother and sister went out into the snow, playing games and such until the sister declared;_

_'Let us make a snow doll! She will be the most beautiful thing ever made! Then there will be three of us, and we'll have even more fun!'_

_Although the boy wasn't keen on the idea of another girl, he relented for his sister's sake.And so they built the snow doll, with a pretty oval face, large eyes and a delicate bow shaped mouth. It looked just like a little girl._

_'Perhaps if we give her a kiss,' the young girl suggested, 'Her lips will turn red like ours_.'

Hook, still standing at the cabin window gazed at Wendy more harshly then, heavy with meaning from their previous experience. But Wendy continued on with her story, pretending she didn't feel his sharp gaze upon her.

" _So they kissed the doll and suddenly...its lips turned berry red! But it didn't stop there! Suddenly it's cheeks turned pink, and when a sudden gust of powerful wind from the north blew by, the doll came to life! It smiled at the children, moved and soon all three of them were playing games and having such fun. Some time later, the children's Uncle returned from market and up to see his niece and nephew._

_But when he saw the girl in white playing with the other two children, he said to himself: 'Why, it must be one of the neighbors daughters.' Then he said to the snow maiden,_

_'Come into the house and get warm.'_

_The snow maiden protested, but the Uncle would not listen to her or the other children. '_

_Why, you're freezing!' he bellowed, pushing her into the house. 'Come into the house and get warmed up!'_

_And so, broken and defeated, the snow maiden did as she was told, for she was no match against the unknowing Uncle. She went in and stood by the window, seeing the snowflakes fall from the heavens ever so gently. Then she began to weep, and slowly and silently she began to melt, until there was nothing left of her, except a small puddle on the floor._ "

 

There was an awful, hollow sound in the cabin then. A sound that reflected the bitterness and sadness of its inhabitants. Instead of being entertained with the tale, Hook looked considerably worse than before. Wendy herself was falling victim to the silent tears that were slipping down her cheeks like the traitors that they were.

"Am I to believe that I am the evil Uncle in this tale?" Hook finally sneered sinisterly, looking to the miserable girl."And you the snow maiden? Taken from your friends against your will?"

"It's just a story," Wendy replied darkly, but she did feel that there was some truth to her stories. There is always something to be learned from a good story.

"Nothing is ever just a story," Hook bit back irritably, moving to his dresser in a fluid motion of purpose. "Nothing is ever as it seems."

"What are you going to do to me?" Wendy suddenly burst out, seeing as Hook was already in a horrid mood. "If you're going to murder me-"

"Oh enough out of you!" Hook exclaimed dramatically, throwing up his arms at her impassioned words. "If I wanted you dead girl, I would have killed you by now I assure you."

Wendy was at a loss, for now she was more than confused. If he didn't want her dead, what did he want her for? Surely not just her stories? Perhaps as a lure for Peter? Yes of course.

"You are to stay aboard the ship, Miss Darling," Hook answered her absently polishing his hook with a nearby rag. Wendy's eyes darted to his face then, positively aghast. "You will tell us stories, and you shall keep me company."

"But where will I lodge?" Wendy asked frantically, looking around the room. "Are there any extra beds available?"

Hook offered a gentle chuckle, coming to rest on the edge of the bed once more. "You shall be sleeping here."

For a moment Wendy let out a sigh of relief. The Captain was at last being a gentleman and offering her his room! All so that she wouldn't have to sleep in the barracks with those animals. She wondered idly where Hook himself would sleep, and decided he must have a spare cabin due to his seniority.

"Thank you Captain," Wendy said softly, grateful for the little he was offering. He gave her a quizzical look but nodded all the same. She was a peculiar girl, he observed. Suddenly though her eyes grew troubled, and he knew what she was about to ask him.

"How long am I to stay aboard your ship then?" Wendy asked gently, her eyes searching Hook's tired eyes. Surely not more than a few days? Surely not more than a week?

"As long as I wish,” he replied casually, not seeming the least bit perturbed by her horrified expression. "Forever, if I feel so inclined to keep you here that long."

"But that's not fair," Wendy said ardently, her eyes suddenly more ablaze. "I've done you no unjust wronging!"

"You haven't," Hook said not completely convinced, "And it may come as a shock to you, but the innocent are often persecuted. You'll come to learn that in time."

"But I wish to go home!" Wendy said uselessly, for it was the only thing in her mind. A small part of her hoped that Hook had some compassion and understanding or at least a modicum of decency.

"Wish wish wish," Hook mocked shrilly, giving her a miserable scowl. "Wishing doesn't do much aboard my ship, as you'll soon come to realize."

Wendy was suddenly so weak from this conversation, and the shock of what was happening hadn't fully sunken in yet. All she was was furious, tired and confused and wanted nothing more than some time away from Hook.

"Could you not leave me in peace then?" Wendy said with tears sneaking out the corner of her eyes. Tears were very powerful and tricky things, with minds of their own. Even though Wendy had been swallowing them back, they rushed out her eyes in full force. "Just for now? If I am to live aboard this horrid ship at least let me have some amount of privacy!"

Hook viewed as the temperamental Wendy turned on her side, her back to him then. He stifled a smirk at her suddenly childish antics, perplexed at how she seemed to jump from emotion to emotion so quickly. But he enjoyed her anger, her unpredictability, her spirit, for there is always something to be found in a girl with spirit.

"Such bad form," Hook said, hoping to get a rise out of her then as he spoke. "Imagine, a guest like yourself attempting to order me about."

"You said this was to be my room!" Wendy declared, turning to face him and suddenly territorial over the little property she had fooled herself into believing was her own.

"I did indeed," Hook said almost playfully as he removed his vest, watching her eyes follow its movements to the chair beside the large bed. "But this is also my room."

Wendy watched as Hook went to the small box on the dresser and opened it, revealing several varying claws, glinting off the new candlelight. This caught her attention and her breath as she looked upon Hook's secret. Hook watched her reflection in the broken mirror, gazing at his hand as he unlocked the claw from its holster, unscrewing it and placing it in the velvet lined box before shutting the top quickly.

He was left then with a leather device still strapped to his arm and poking out the cuff of his shirt, naked without its trademark hook on the end of it. Below his shirt of course, digging into his right shoulder was the rest of the mechanism, was his makeshift arm. He turned then, removing his boots and grasping a nearby book from the bookcase. Wendy was silent as Hook gently lowered himself onto the bed, his eyes half asleep. He glanced over at her then on the other side of the bed, her lips parted in shock.

"You actually intend to sleep in this bed?"

"Do you wish for something to read?" Hook offered lazily, ignoring her question. "Or were you eager to get to bed?"

The last of his words were emphasized with a quick eyebrow raise in her direction.

"Have you no sense of propriety?" Wendy said in horror at this sentiment, her hands coming to grasp a pillow and hold it in front of her like some sort of shield.

"No book then?" Hook asked the defensive girl absently, his light eyes then drawing to the large leather-bound volume in his good hand. "Very well then my dear, suit yourself."

Wendy watched as Hook then propped his head upon his bad arm, and hold his book with his good hand. The bottom of the book rested upon his stomach, and for a moment he looked completely relaxed, and unnervingly normal. If it weren't for the long hair and lavish clothing, Wendy thought it might have been any of her father's acquaintances enjoying himself on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

But this wasn't one of her father's work colleagues.It was James Hook. She was his victim, his captive and he her villain and monster. Wendy could only watch his display of strange normalcy a moment before turning on her back, facing away from him. She moved then from the bed quickly before he could strike, and moving to the other side of the cabin with the lone pillow in her shaking hand. She could not spend a night in the same bed as a pirate!

"I thought you wished to defy your parents." Hook suddenly called to her, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over the foot of his bed, to the corner of the cabin where Wendy was, curled into an uncomfortable ball. "And yet there you are, doing exactly as they've always taught you."

"This is nothing of my parent's doing," Wendy insisted, giving him a furious glare. "It is of ingrained moral character. I am not the type of lady who sleeps in the same bed as a grown man she barely knows."

"Of course," Hook offered positively diabolically as Wendy turned her face from him angrily. He paused then, seeing that the girl was making no move to join him back in the large bed, and she would freeze over the course of long night on the cold wood planks. He did not wish to have a sick girl on his hands.

"Miss Darling, do come back in this bed," Hook said gently, shifting his legs over the side of the large bed. "I shall sleep in that large chair there by the window. It is the more gentlemanly thing to do of course."

"How do I know you won't try something?" Wendy finally said almost timidly, knowing if Hook intended on doing something un-chivalrous, she really had no way of stopping him.

Hook's face grew serious, and his eyes cloudy.

"I give you my word."

"The word of a pirate?" Wendy scoffed. "How novel."

Hook said nothing, but stood and made his way to the large chair by the cabin window. The moonlight danced upon his hair as he sat then, drawing a large blanket over his legs. There he opened his book and went back to ignoring the still seated girl. Wendy waited a few moments, until she felt her point had been made, and then stood. She walked gingerly to the bed, her breath shallow for fear that he would dart out from his chair and grab her. But he did not. Hook seemed completely immersed in his novel, and Wendy was able to breathe a quiet sigh of relief. She clamored into the large bed, staying onto her side.

And pulling all the blankets atop of her possible, she snuggled down into it, finding it remarkably warm. She made sure her back was to the Captain, and then she closed her tired eyes. Hook looked over to her almost sleeping frame moments later, finding the entire scene almost endearing. For a brief moment, Hook wondered what it would have been like to have a child. Something to care for, to love…but he decided in the end, a child would prove to be a large nuisance.

Wendy shifted then, giving a shaky sigh that sounded like a gasp for air, undoubtedly to top herself from crying. Hook noted this and in that moment almost regretted keeping her from her family, from those who cared for her. But then Wendy ruined the sentiment entirely by speaking in a voice choked with dark emotion.

"You are a horrid person James Hook."

The brief flash of sympathy was gone from him, and he immediately grew cold. The words were cutting, and harsh. The truth is like that, it manages to cut through every guard and shield you put up, like an arrow right for the heart that cannot be stopped. James Hook felt the sting of that elusive arrow.

"I know," Hook eventually replied breezily, his eyes upon the words in the book as he spoke to her next, his voice tinged with a sorrow Wendy could not understand, for she was good and loved by many. "And perhaps you shall come to understand why in time."


	8. The 'Happy' Home

It was all a dream. I'm home. It was all a dream.  
Wendy coughed raggedly, her entire body racking as she slowly woke from her temporary coma. Slowly her dark lashes parted, and her eyes opened, taking in a large room she hadn't encountered before. It was dimly lit and taking a large glance at the small porthole to her left, Wendy viewed it was sunset.  
This gave the room an almost reddish glow, but it seemed a harsh red, an angry red. The entire room had a scent of masculinity, of something musky and formidable. There was a large bookcase at one end of the cabin, filled with several interesting looking volumes. There were several candles about in ornate holders, a basin filled with water at one side of the cabin, a dresser drawer that seemed rather old and dusty with a cracked mirror atop of it.  
There was a small square box on top of the dresser and while Wendy was intrigued to know what it held, her attention was suddenly drawn to where she now lay. It was incredibly soft, and extremely decadent. Why, her own bed at  
home would never compare! She viewed the embroidered pillows, the soft ruby red of the blankets she was atop of.  
Slowly the fog was being lifted from the girl's mind, and she suddenly felt an icy grip of panic around her heart, squeezing tightly until she found she was quite breathless. What of the fire? Poor Wendy thought wildly, surely it had burnt most of the ship? Surely they still weren't aboard the Jolly Roger?  
"Then where am I?" she inquired to no one in an awed whisper.  
"Miss Wendy?"  
Wendy let out a large gasp at the familiar face that came into view by the door of the cabin. Smee. He'd been so still and blended into the cabins dim lighting so well, she hadn't even recognized him in her initial viewing of the room.  
"Hello there little one," Smee said almost kindly, coming to stand at the end of the large bed that Wendy was now sitting up in. His voice was soft, and almost nervous. "Are you peckish?"  
Wendy nearly gaped at the civility of the question, and whom it was coming from. She was still in a daze, and could only think to ask the one question that had plagued her since she had awoken.  
"Where am I?"  
"Why, aboard the Jolly Roger," Smee said with a chuckle, his light eyes twinkling merrily, causing him to look more and more like the fabled Santa Claus Wendy knew of. "Where else?"  
Wendy fell silent, her eyes wide and disbelieving. They fell to her hands, clasped in her lap. She sniffled back the tears now, knowing that obviously Hook had won. Peter was surely dead, along with the Lost Boys. She was never to be free. He would surely murder her now with Peter out of the equation. How would he kill her? She wondered darkly, her stomach churning. Revolver? Walking the plank? Poison? Suddenly her face paled as she came to the feared conclusion...  
His claw?  
She heard faint clattering, and before she could look up to see where the commotion had risen a plate of what looked like three day old stew and a stale piece of bread were placed in front of her on a silver platter. Wendy looked to the expectant Smee.  
"Thank you," She responded respectfully, though she was obviously broken in spirit and hope.  
"You're very welcome, Miss," Smee said slowly, as if trying in vain to remember correct manners.  
Wendy could feel his eyes on her, surely waiting for her to take a bite of what he offered her. Surely it was poison, Wendy decided. And so knowing that death was to be imminent, and not as painful as she had imagined, Wendy Darling raised the bread to her lips, and thought of home.  
Home.  
Before she could take a bite, the door to the cabin was flung open, and in strode Hook looking his part. His smirk was sinister, as was the look he directed to a stricken Wendy.  
"Miss Darling," He purred, glancing at her small form on his large bed. She was paler than moments before, causing the smudges of charcoal to stand out on her cheeks and nose.  
Smee suddenly darted to Wendy, taking the tray of food from her and placing it atop the dresser. Hook watched Wendy through all of this, viewing the disappointment in her eyes as the food was taken from her, her eyes fixated upon a kindly Smee.  
Suddenly Hook was overtaken with jealousy at the attention the round bellied Smee was receiving whilst he, Captain James Hook, was being thoroughly ignored. It simply did not happen.  
"Smee," Hook said with authority at his silent shipmate. "I wish to speak with Miss Darling in private."  
"Of course Captain." Smee gave a curt nod to Wendy and Hook before he went rushing out into the darkening evening, closing the cabin door quietly behind him. Then it was just she and Hook. The two of them at opposing sides of the cabin looking to one another warily. Wendy didn't dare speak, for fear of rousing his legendary temper.  
Hook removed his hat, placing it on the chair beside the drawer that Wendy hadn't noticed before; following soon after was his decorative overcoat. She watched his methodic movements in sheer frightened silence.  
Soon he stood before her in nothing but his white shirt, vest, trousers and boots. Still he was broad shouldered and intimidating, and she shuddered as he drew nearer. He stopped at the basin, dropping a cloth into it and bringing it to the side of the bed. He placed it beside Wendy, looking to the girl under hooded eyes. Her eyes were on the claw he kept at his side, almost as if ashamed of its mere presence. Then her eyes drew curiously to the basin of lukewarm water in mild interest.  
Hook slowly sat himself at the edge of the bed, looking to her carefully. He allowed this moment of careful inspection as she looked everywhere but his face. He knew she feared him. For now. Her knee was inches from his and her back seemed rigidly straight. Such ladylike manners, he had almost forgotten how they brought up young girls in London these days. He almost sighed then, at what lady like Wendy Darling had done in the cellar below.  
"You foolish girl," Hook murmured as his left hand grasped the washcloth in the basin. Best as he could, he drained some of the water out of it before raising it to Wendy's face. She darted back slightly, looking to his eyes now as timid as a deer caught in its familiar forest. She raised one hand slightly, wincing as if expecting to be slapped roughly with the washcloth in Hook's hand.  
"Where is Peter?"  
Hook's teeth ground together at her words, but he did not show his irritation upon his face.  
"Gone."  
"Dead?" Wendy said almost fearfully.  
"No," Hook replied easily, his countenance relaxed. "If he had perished, I would have told you as such. No, Pan is simply gone from this ship, never to return."  
Wendy was unsure of how to react to this news. Yes, she was overjoyed at Peter's escape...but never to return? How could that ever work? She looked to the Captain's face in curious confusion, her eyes scanning his face freely. "But, you don't seem upset."  
"That is because I am not upset, my beauty," Hook said almost grinning as he spoke. "For I have my prize."  
Wendy's face colored at this sentiment, and she grew suddenly uncomfortable under Hook's familiar and predatory gaze. Again his hand and washcloth were raised inclining towards her face, and again she drew back from his almost touch.  
"Do not move again," He said sternly, the side of his claw coming to rest atop her hand. It was a cold jolt to her senses, and she muffled a cry of surprise and sudden fright. "I would hate to have to harm you further."  
Wendy didn't believe what he said at all, but she stilled, her breathing almost stopping as Hook's hand went to her face once more. She watched as the damp washcloth brushed against her cheek. It was such a gentle touch Wendy could barely believe it was the Captain's hand. She was confused at his motions until she saw the dark smudges upon the cloth and she found the strength to speak.  
"Why aren't you upset with me?" Wendy inquired softly, looking to his clear eyes focused upon the bridge of her nose as he brushed the cloth against it. "I thought for certain you would be furious about the fire."  
"It was half my doing," Hook replied almost embarrassedly. "I left you to your own devices alone down there with a flame. I suppose I just assumed you weren't foolish enough to attempt death. But I should have known by now that you are not like most women, Wendy."  
When he said her name, she suppressed a shiver. It was the heavy tone in which he said it, accompanied by the slow downward movement of the cloth against her neck. And it was how he had called her a woman, not in the accusatory fashion her parents seemed to favor, but more as if it were a title that she had earned in entering womanhood.  
The cloth hadn't stopped at her neck, Wendy noted, her eyes still locked with the unfathomable man before her. His dark hair behind him, his light eyes so uncharacteristically suited to his dark features they seemed to hypnotize. Now the washcloth was now dragging itself down her neck, landing in the hollow at middle of her collar, and causing her heart to hiccup.  
Hook noted the chest that had begun to heave slightly under his ministrations, and his lips had parted the moment the movement had started. But still his eyes were upon her, wanting her to fully succumb to him. Her skin was clean now, and glistening in the candlelight from the water. The washcloth circled her collarbone now; preparing to go downward should she let him.  
"Did the fire do much damage?" Wendy inquired loudly, wishing that the sound would stop the movement upon her collar immediately. Her wishes were granted, for his hand fell slowly.  
"Not much at all my dear. The only damage you managed to inflict was upon yourself," Hook lied casually, placing the cloth back into the basin. "Now, don't look so disappointed. It was a valiant effort worthy of any pirate."  
"I do not wish to be a pirate," Wendy said gently, "I am no longer a child."  
"Of that fact," Hook murmured gently, "I am well aware."  
Before she knew what was happening, Wendy felt the strong hand of Hook around her neck, bring her face to meet his own. She could not pull back, for the claw rested now on the small of her back. His breath was hot against her cheek, and his eyes were piercing.  
All the stories in the world she had told of this legendary man, down to the last detail. She had been through adventures great and small, but nothing prepared her for the feeling that went through her as she realized that Hook's mouths was inches from her own.  
He was looking hungrily to her mouth in that moment in a fashion that was much too overwhelming for Wendy to fully comprehend. She had never been party to a real man, and a real man's needs. She wasn't betrothed, and in London society it was highly inappropriate for this kind of behavior.  
It was then through all of these worries and thoughts, that Wendy was introduced to Hook's mouth, for his lips were now roughly pressed against her own. Her eyes were widened in horror as his mouth covered her own; his own eyes closed languidly even through Wendy's frozen state. Then as his lips began to move, caressing her. Wendy felt her stomach bottom out completely.  
The world went slowly then, in a haze cloud of warm red. Wendy could feel every hair on her body standing on end, pulling almost painfully in her skin. She could smell the cologne Hook must have put on this morning, felt his soft curls brush her cheek and could sense the need for her kisses radiating from Hook's powerful mouth.  
Hook brought her unwilling form closer to his own, his hand trailing from the back of her neck to gently cup her burning cheek. Her lips were so soft, and her body so warm and clean smelling that Hook was nearly dizzy with delight. It had been a long while since he'd had a real lady to warm his bed. He nipped her lower lip tenderly, and was rewarded with a soft gasp.  
He pulled the silent Wendy Darling closer to him then, hoping that the suffocating proximity would muffle the incessant pulsation currently going through his entire form. But of course, something was amiss. She wasn't struggling like the other wench's, but it was just as bad as she wasn't moving at all. He pulled back a moment when he felt she wasn't responding, gazing into her face only to see woeful eyes filled to the brim with tears.  
"What are you doing?"  
Hook felt a wave of disgust at her timid words, disgust directed at Wendy or himself he wasn't sure. But he was certain of the anger that accompanied such a feeling and he quickly pushed the young girl from him roughly.  
She fell onto her elbows on the bed, her eyes focused upon him as he stood quickly. He began slowly pacing back and forth beside the bed, his eyes falling on her frame a minute before whisking away to the dresser. This seemed to calm him, and before long his entire countenance seemed much more in control.  
"I apologize," Hook finally intoned flatly, clearly showing Wendy that he didn't mean a word of what he said. "All my manners seem to have briefly left me I'm afraid."  
Wendy said nothing; for fear that her words would only provoke him to kiss her further, or worse. She watched his tall frame at the door, his eyes stealing glances at her when he believed she wasn't looking. Hook kissing her? It was all so surreal. Nothing like the stories she had made up. Romance of course was usual in her stories, but this was no story.  
Her stomach was still fluttering slightly, and she swallowed thickly to stop the feeling, but it would not let up. Like fairy dust it covered all of her, causing her skin to prickle in a most shiver-inducing manner. It was wrong to be kissed by a man like Hook.  
"Tell me a story," Hook suddenly demanded, looking disheveled and confused and suddenly far too humane. Wendy was unsure of what to do, or what story to tell the irritable sea Captain.  
"I'm afraid I don't feel much like telling a story." Wendy was drawing her knees up to her chest and curling her arms around them tightly. Her mind and stomach were still whirling from what had just happened. She felt so small then, so small and so very alone.  
"I do not enjoy being talked back to, Wendy dear." Hook said dramatically, his mouth had taken on a sneering quality then, his eyes darkening. "I suggest you think of a story quickly."  
Wendy gazed up at the looming figure of Hook. He was such a confusing and complex man, and none of her stories about him could help her in deciphering what exactly made him do what he did. It was all so very unsettling for she never knew what to expect of him.  
"What about?" She finally sighed.  
"Anything you wish." Hook responded quickly, his back to her and his eyes out the cabin window, looking at the placid sea reflecting in the dimly red sunset atop it. It was so red outside, it was frightening.  
Wendy was suddenly very sad, and very tired. But she knew better than to get him in a foul mood. But as with most storytellers, her tales did reflect her mood. Had Wendy been in a better mood, she may have told Hook of tales of intrigue and the high seas, battles with dragons and the lot.  
But poor Wendy was in a very melancholy mood as she sat there upon Hook's bed, and so her short tale was tinged with that of incomparable sadness. Sadness that she did not know Hook currently shared.  
"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful garden in the yard of a beautiful home where two young children lived, brother and sister." At this, Wendy's eyes grew glassy, but she continued undeterred.  
"One day there was a great snowfall in their town, and their garden and home were covered in beautiful white flakes, as far as the eye could see. The brother and sister went out into the snow, playing games and such until the sister declared;  
'Let us make a snow doll! She will be the most beautiful thing ever made! Then there will be three of us, and we'll have even more fun!'  
Although the boy wasn't keen on the idea of another girl, he relented for his sister's sake. And so they built the snow doll, with a pretty oval face, large eyes and a delicate bow shaped mouth. It looked just like a little girl.  
'Perhaps if we give her a kiss,' the young girl suggested, 'Her lips will turn red like ours.'  
Hook, still standing at the cabin window gazed at Wendy more harshly then, heavy with meaning from their previous experience. But Wendy continued on with her story, pretending she didn't feel his sharp gaze upon her.  
So they kissed the doll and suddenly...its lips turned berry red! But it didn't stop there! Suddenly it's cheeks turned pink, and when a sudden gust of powerful wind from the north blew by, the doll came to life! It smiled at the children, moved and soon all three of them were playing games and having such fun.  
Some time later, the children's Uncle returned from market and up to see his niece and nephew. But when he saw the girl in white playing with the other two children, he said to himself:  
'Why, it must be one of the neighbors daughters.' Then he said to the snow maiden, 'Come into the house and get warm.'  
The snow maiden protested, but the Uncle would not listen to her or the other children.  
'Why, you're freezing!' he bellowed, pushing her into the house. 'Come into the house and get warmed up!'  
And so, broken and defeated, the snow maiden did as she was told, for she was no match against the unknowing Uncle. She went in and stood by the window, seeing the snowflakes fall from the heavens ever so gently.  
Then she began to weep, and slowly and silently she began to melt, until there was nothing left of her, except a small puddle on the floor."  
There was an awful, hollow sound in the cabin then. A sound that reflected the bitterness and sadness of its inhabitants. Instead of being entertained with the tale, Hook looked considerably worse than before. Wendy herself was falling victim to the silent tears that were slipping down her cheeks like the traitors that they were.  
"Am I to believe that I am the evil Uncle in this tale?" Hook finally sneered sinisterly, looking to the miserable girl. "And you the snow maiden? Taken from your friends against your will?"  
"It is just a story," Wendy replied darkly, but she did feel that there was some truth to her stories. There is always something to be learned from a good story.  
"Nothing is ever just a story with you," Hook bit back irritably, moving to his dresser in a fluid motion of purpose. "Nothing is ever as it seems."  
"What are you going to do to me?" Wendy suddenly burst out, seeing as Hook was already in a horrid mood. "If you're going to murder me-"  
"Oh enough out of you!" Hook exclaimed dramatically, throwing up his arms at her impassioned words. "If I wanted you dead girl, I would have killed you by now I assure you."  
Wendy was at a loss, for now she was more than confused. If he didn't want her dead, what did he want her for? Surely not just her stories? Perhaps as a lure for Peter? Yes of course.  
"You are to stay aboard the ship, Miss Darling," Hook answered her absently polishing his hook with a nearby rag. Wendy's eyes darted to his face then, positively aghast. "You will tell us stories, and you shall keep me company."  
"But where will I lodge?" Wendy asked frantically, looking around the room. "Are there any extra beds available?"  
Hook offered a gentle chuckle, coming to rest on the edge of the bed once more. "You shall be sleeping here."  
For a moment Wendy let out a sigh of relief. The Captain was at last being a gentleman and offering her his room! All so that she wouldn't have to sleep in the barracks with those animals. She wondered idly where Hook himself would sleep, and decided he must have a spare cabin due to his seniority.  
"Thank you Captain," Wendy said softly, grateful for the little he was offering. He gave her a quizzical look but nodded all the same. She was a peculiar girl, he observed. Suddenly though her eyes grew troubled, and he knew what she was about to ask him.  
"How long am I to stay aboard your ship then?" Wendy asked gently, her eyes searching Hook's tired eyes. Surely not more than a few days? Surely not more than a week?  
"As long as I wish,” He replied casually, not seeming the least bit perturbed by her horrified expression. "Forever, if I feel so inclined to keep you here that long."  
"But that's not fair," Wendy said ardently, her eyes suddenly more ablaze. "I've done you no unjust wronging!"  
"You haven't," Hook said not completely convinced, "And it may come as a shock to you, but the innocent are often persecuted. You'll come to learn that in time."  
"But I wish to go home!" Wendy said uselessly, for it was the only thing in her mind. A small part of her hoped that Hook had some compassion and understanding or at least a modicum of decency.  
"Wish wish wish," Hook mocked shrilly, giving her a miserable scowl. "Wishing doesn't do much aboard my ship, as you'll soon come to realize."  
Wendy was suddenly so weak from this conversation, and the shock of what was happening hadn't fully sunken in yet. All she was was furious, tired and confused and wanted nothing more than some time away from Hook.  
"Could you not leave me in peace then?" Wendy said with tears sneaking out the corner of her eyes. Tears were very powerful and tricky things, with minds of their own. Even though Wendy had been swallowing them back, they rushed out her eyes in full force. "Just for now? If I am to live aboard this horrid ship at least let me have some amount of privacy!"  
Hook viewed as the temperamental Wendy turned on her side, her back to him then. He stifled a smirk at her suddenly childish antics, perplexed at how she seemed to jump from emotion to emotion so quickly.  
But he enjoyed her anger, her unpredictability, her spirit, for there is always something to be found in a girl with spirit.  
"How rude," Hook said, hoping to get a rise out of her then as he spoke. "Imagine, a guest like yourself attempting to order me about."  
"You said this was to be my room!" Wendy declared, turning to face him and suddenly territorial over the little property she had fooled herself into believing was her own.  
"I did indeed," Hook said almost playfully as he removed his vest, watching her eyes follow its movements to the chair beside the large bed. "But this is also my room."  
Wendy watched as Hook went to the small box on the dresser and opened it, revealing several varying claws, glinting off the new candlelight. This caught her attention and her breath as she looked upon Hook's secret.  
Hook watched her reflection in the broken mirror, gazing at his hand as he unlocked the claw from its holster, unscrewing it and placing it in the velvet lined box before shutting the top quickly.  
He was left then with a leather device still strapped to his arm and poking out the cuff of his shirt, naked without its trademark hook on the end of it. Below his shirt of course, digging into his right shoulder was the rest of the mechanism, was his makeshift arm.  
He turned then, removing his boots and grasping a nearby book from the bookcase. Wendy was silent as Hook gently lowered himself onto the bed, his eyes half asleep. He glanced over at her then on the other side of the bed, her lips parted in shock.  
"You actually intend to sleep in this bed?"  
"Do you wish for something to read?" Hook offered sinisterly, ignoring her question. "Or were you eager to get to bed?"  
The last of his words were emphasized with a quick eyebrow raise in her direction.

"Have you no sense of propriety?" Wendy said in horror at this sentiment, her hands coming to grasp a pillow and hold it in front of her like some sort of shield.

"No book then?" Hook asked the defensive girl absently, his light eyes then drawing to the large leather-bound volume in his good hand. "Very well then my dear, suit yourself."  
Wendy watched as Hook then propped his head upon his bad arm, and hold his book with his good hand. The bottom of the book rested upon his stomach, and for a moment he looked completely relaxed, and unnervingly normal.  
If it weren't for the long hair and lavish clothing, Wendy thought it might have been any of her father's acquaintances enjoying himself on a lazy Sunday afternoon.  
But this wasn't one of her father's work colleagues. It was James Hook. She was his victim, his captive and he her villain and monster. Wendy could only watch his display of strange normalcy a moment before turning on her back, facing away from him.  
She moved then from the bed quickly before he could strike, and moving to the other side of the cabin with the lone pillow in her shaking hand. She could not spend a night in the same bed as a pirate!  
"I thought you wished to defy your parents." Hook suddenly called to her, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over the foot of his bed, to the corner of the cabin where Wendy was, curled into an uncomfortable ball. "And yet there you are, doing exactly as they've always taught you."  
"This is nothing of my parent's doing," Wendy insisted, giving him a furious glare. "It is of ingrained moral character. I am not the type of lady who sleeps in the same bed as a grown man she barely knows."  
"Of course," Hook offered positively diabolically as Wendy turned her face from him angrily. He paused then, seeing that the girl was making no move to join him back in the large bed, and she would freeze over the course of long night on the cold wood planks. He did not wish to have a sick girl on his hands.  
"Miss Darling, do come back in this bed," Hook said gently, shifting his legs over the side of the large bed. "I shall sleep in that large chair there by the window. It is the more gentlemanly thing to do of course."  
"How do I know you won't try something?" Wendy finally said almost timidly, knowing if Hook intended on doing something un-chivalrous, she really had no way of stopping him. Hook's face grew serious, and his eyes cloudy.  
"I give you my word."  
"The word of a pirate?" Wendy scoffed. "How novel."  
Hook said nothing, but stood and made his way to the large chair by the cabin window. The moonlight danced upon his hair as he sat then, drawing a large blanket over his legs. There he opened his book and went back to ignoring the still seated girl. Wendy waited a few moments, until she felt her point had been made, and then stood. She walked gingerly to the bed, her breath shallow for fear that he would dart out from his chair and grab her. But he did not. Hook seemed completely immersed in his novel, and Wendy was able to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.  
She clamored into the large bed, staying onto her side. And pulling all the blankets atop of her possible, she snuggled down into it, finding it remarkably warm. She made sure her back was to the Captain, and then she closed her tired eyes.  
Hook looked over to her almost sleeping frame moments later, finding the entire scene almost endearing. For a brief moment, Hook wondered what it would have been like to have a child. Something to care for, to love…but he decided in the end, a child would prove to be a large nuisance.  
Wendy shifted then, giving a shaky sigh that sounded like a gasp for air, undoubtedly to top herself from crying. Hook noted this and in that moment almost regretted keeping her from her family, from those who cared for her. But then Wendy ruined the sentiment entirely by speaking in a voice choked with dark emotion.  
"You are a horrid person James Hook."  
The brief flash of sympathy was gone from him, and he immediately grew cold. The words were cutting, and harsh. The truth is like that, it manages to cut through every guard and shield you put up, like an arrow right for the heart that cannot be stopped. James Hook felt the sting of that elusive arrow.  
"I know," Hook eventually replied breezily, his eyes upon the words in the book as he spoke to her next, his voice tinged with a sorrow Wendy could not understand, for she was good and loved by many.  
"And perhaps you shall come to understand why in time.


	9. There is a window still standing open

Now there be those of you who may be confused at the events leading up to these moments with Wendy's return to Neverland and her capture by Hook. For as we last left Wendy Darling and her adventure to Neverland, had she not grown up into a woman with a young daughter named Jane who would in turn have a daughter named Margaret? Why of course, that is how Wendy's life did indeed end up.

But there was the large course of time between the ages of twelve to thirty which were skimmed over completely. And what kind of author would I be should I keep you from these most life changing events? They may not hold the same intrigue as those of children's stories, for this is not a child's story at all. Rather it is a grown ups story, for those of us whose inner child yearns to live on.

First I may begin with the Lost Boys, for as we left them they were in London with Wendy and her brothers. They had a home, a mother, and grew to be respected citizens of the world. But of course this is not how it was to be from the start. They were after all boys. For they did return to Neverland at first light scarcely a month after they'd come to London. They had done this, certain that they despised the thought of growing up and Peter had welcomed them back happily with open arms. It would be many years before they returned to London to begin a grown ups life.

And as for John and Michael, they were good boys with short memories. Why, Michael's mind was easily molded. He had forgotten of his home whilst in Neverland, and when at home soon found his memories of Neverland quite diminished. He was a happy and contented boy however and prone to bouts of severe joy when Wendy would steal away from her large room at the end of the hall, to regale her younger siblings with stories of intrigue.

But as the years passed, Wendy's stories lessened and Michael and John did not mind as much. John being more analytical than the younger had faint memories of the land where children don't grow up and pirates and mermaids lodge. But in the years that passed he simply dismissed them as fanciful dreams and wishes in which he must put away should he become respected like his father. John was a boy that longed to be respected and admired.

I would tell you more of Mary and George Darling, but they do not play a large part in this tale so far. As for Nana she on her last legs, lodging in the kennel for her role as a nursemaid was long retired as the Darling children were children no longer children at all. There. It would seem that you are caught up with all the important characters of this tale and ready to continue on to the events which would- Oh wait- You wish to know what came of those pirates? Smee, Starkley, Bill Jukes and all the like? And how James Hook came to escape the clutches of that damned crocodile?

Oh, I wish I could tell you that. But it would be completely inappropriate, and Wendy would be completely furious should she find out. No. I think it best for you to come to the end yourself, without my aid. And so now I take you, to where our current story left off.

**********

Captain Hook awoke the next morning with a large amount of pain in his shoulders and the back of his neck. He groaned lowly, his blurry eyes vainly trying to become accustomed to the bright morning. He moved slightly, realizing he was sitting. Sitting in a harsh chair that was currently digging into his lower back. His mind spun as he tried to recall why he was sequestered in his chair. Worse still, his right shoulder positively ached with a soreness he had not felt in years.

His hand rose to rub it, before forgetful fingertips brushed into the familiar harness. How could he have forgotten? He'd slept practically fully dressed, with his blasted harness on and in a horribly uncomfortable chair! He hissed slightly in pain as he rubbed the tender skin around it, grimacing visibly. What had possessed him to go through all this bother? It was then that his eyes drew to the bed, and a familiar figure brought all of it back to him.

Her body was almost entirely covered in his large, crimson colored blankets. Dark waves draped haphazardly around her pale face, thick lashes, her lips slightly parted in deep slumber. Wendy Darling was the source of all his pain, and yet he did not find the strength to despise her. No, she was one of the few he had crossed in his life that he could not hate... not at this moment Perhaps it was because she was a girl, a girl that reminded him highly of himself at that age. Learned, despising of societal boundaries, a vast imagination. Yes, surely that was the dire cause.

He stood shakily then, swallowing thickly and wincing at the taste in his mouth. He moved to the cabinet by his dresser, and opening it he grasped a small case. He removed the sprigs of mint and placed them in his mouth, chewing absently before he felt the slight tingle that went down his throat and tickled his tongue. Hook went to the small velvet lined case upon the dresser, and opened it completely with a small creak.

Glancing at the bed he saw Wendy had not stirred. Good. He pulled out a similar shaped claw to the one he'd had on yesterday, and heard it lock with a familiar click. He felt more at ease with it on then, as if he were whole once more. He opened the door to his cabin and then and saw a fresh basin of water already awaiting him and a note that informed him that his previously charred cabin had been mended. Grumbling slightly to himself out of irritated fatigue, he brought it inside and placed it upon the dresser. He glanced at the girl to see she was still sleeping and was glad that she had not yet awoken.

With his good hand he splashed himself with the lukewarm water, washing away the sleep and fatigue of his uneasy night. He grasped the nearby soap and scrubbed his face tenderly,knowing he must be filthy from the fire. Finally he was finished, rinsed and toweled off. He placed the basin outside the door and closed it once more. He glanced back at the large bed, unsure of how to proceed. He wanted to look at the girl more closely, but was hesitant. If she was to dart awake, he doubted he could stand her shrill screaming. Then again, it was his ship. She was his for the time being. His to look at, should he feel so inclined.

And so with that thought, Hook moved to the edge of the bed quietly. He felt it proper that he clasp his hand behind his back then, since it was just simple observation. She lay facing upwards, one arm at her side, and the other above her head. He allowed a small grin to pull at his lips from one side in amusement. She was quite entertaining, even in sleep. As Hook stared though Wendy's lips suddenly became inviting. Pinkish and full looking. He knew by experience that they were incredibly soft.

What was that? Hook thought he saw something there, winking at him from the corner of the girl's mouth.

At this intrigue Hook insisted he needed a closer look. He leaned over, looking directly at the corner of the girl's mouth, but saw nothing. Surely his mind was playing tricks on him. His face was inches above hers then, and he allowed his eyes to shut a moment peacefully. As he inhaled, he could smell his own scent intermingling with hers. It was a musky, yet feminine aroma that tantalized the senses and seemed almost familiar.

Wendy Darling. Hook wanted to kiss her then, wanted to kiss her until she was breathless, but did not. He refrained completely, not only to show powerful self-restraint, but at the knowledge that to kiss a maiden as she lay asleep was indeed a cowards act. Not only that, Hook mused, it was also most certainly bad form.

Poor Hook. As fate would have it, he was not meant to enjoy this moment further. For had he not let his fancy carry him away, Wendy would not have awoken moments later to the scent of mint, and a familiar pirates lips far too close to her own. She did not notice that Hook wasn't moving nearer, or that his hand was behind his back. But she did see through her blurry vision, eyes serenely closed, and a mouth that Wendy believed was aching to be kissed. Hook's eyes flew open as two small hands pushed his chest harshly, causing him to almost trip to the ground.

"You promised!" Wendy bellowed in shock at his actions, and vicious betrayal.

Hook looked to the girl agape at what had just happened before his red-hot temper caught up with his realization. He rushed over to the bed where Wendy was attempting to scramble away. With one furious hand, he grasped her collar and dragged her writhing form over to him. He draped one leg over her own, trapping her underneath him in agitation. Only then when he was certain she was unable to escape, did he cover her mouth with his good hand.

"Keep your voice down, girl!" Hook hissed and raised the claw at the level of the red-faced girls eyes. "I've kept my word. I did not lay a hand upon you."

Wendy shouted something into his palm, surely a threat of insistent of his bad character. Hook did not waver however, for no amount of screaming and squirming would stop him. How was he to earn her trust if she thought he was some sort of animal? Surely she knew that he was cruel, she had seen him murder countless men. But he had to sway her judgment. He must.

"I was merely admiring your face in the early morning's light," Hook finally murmured soothingly, hoping to deceive the struggling girl into quiet submission. Wendy was not moved however, and instead continued to squirm about roughly underneath him. She only stopped as he let out a savage hiss into her ear. "I insist you stop your movements this instant."

She stilled at the insistence in his voice, and Hook hastily clamored off of her beside the bed, drawing her up as he did so. She was sitting upright now, with his hand still firmly upon her mouth. Hook's breathing was shallow, and his piercing eyes drilled into her own as she shifted uneasily under his watchful gaze. Moments passed in which neither moved, until Hook spoke gravely.

"When I remove my hand, you will be silent. Correct?"

Wendy nodded dumbly, and slowly Hook removed his hand, dragging it to her shoulder, where he grasped harshly. Wendy winced, but refused to show she felt any pain.

"That's much better," Hook cooed, as he moved from her. "Now, do be civil."

Several terms came to mind that Wendy wished to use against her captor. But she could tell by his calm countenance that he was indeed unfettered and that she should capitalize on her host's good humor.

"What time is it?" Wendy asked disoriented, her anger giving way to curiosity. She needed to know how long she had been upon this blasted pirate ship. Hook gave her a severe glance of distaste to the girl's question before he turned his gaze to the small cabin window, and answered through steely agitation.

"I would wager around nine o'clock in the morning, judging by the sun."

Wendy realized her faux pas of asking Hook of all people the time, and recovered with a gentle "Oh," before she looked to the wooden floorboards below. She wasn't sure whether to be vexed with him, or believe him when he'd said earlier that he'd kept his promise. In either case, had he intended on doing something, she doubted she would have been able to stop him. Perhaps he was just looking at her face as he had so voiced? She suddenly was desperate for fresh air, desperate for some proof that she wasn't condemned to die in the cabin of her biggest foe. Perhaps to send out some sort of help signal?

"Captain?" She ventured, attempting to be civil and perhaps even charming. Wendy could be a very charming girl at times. "Would it be permissible for me to take a walk upon the deck? It's such a lovely morning and-"

"Wendy Wendy Wendy," Hook tsked good naturedly as he looked to the girl almost fondly at her feeble attempt at escape. "You don't think I'm that easily swayed do you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Wendy inquired, attempting to look innocent and confused. But she was worried, for she knew of Hook's renowned intelligence and ferocity.

"Let you have free roam upon my ship?" Hook said with an almost laugh. "It's completely out of the question."

"I'm never to leave this cabin?" Wendy stared at him in shock and disbelief.

"Of course you shall leave this cabin now and then," Hook said matter of factly as he brushed a loose curl from his face. "But go up on deck? Not this soon, I'm afraid. Perhaps in a month or so."

"What will change in the course of a month?" Wendy asked vehemently.

"We shall see." Hook teased darkly, before his demeanor changed and he turned into the authoritative Captain that dark and frightening stories were made of. He went to his locked cabinet and removed a large piece of rope. Wendy watched in dim horror as he tested it if was taut. When he deemed it satisfactory, he moved back over to the shuddering Wendy.

"W-What are you going to do?" Hook ignored the frantic girl and instead pushed her gently back onto the bed. Wendy's eyes were closed in fear, for she did not want to witness what was to come next. She was startled moments later however, as that very rope was wrapped tightly around her ankles, tying her to the bed upon which she sat! Poor Wendy. It was far too late before she realized what was happening. Far too late to begin kicking her legs for release, for Hook was an experienced pirate, and had finished the job quickly. Wendy could only look down now, and see the rope bound around her unwilling ankles.

"I am no animal to be held captive!" Wendy insisted, looking more a furious woman than a girl.

"You are no animal my dear," Hook agreed complacently. "But you must be bound, for fear of further hurting yourself as evidence by your desperate actions yesterday."

Wendy merely grumbled in reply, wishing Hook away. No amount of pleading would change his mind, for he was a man that was not swayed by the charm of any woman, least of all her. She noticed she had little leeway, and stepped tentatively off the bed as Hook watched in mild amusement. She could walk exactly five steps around in a circle where she stood. She could sleep on the bed, and she could stand on the floor, but aside from that she was indeed limited. Hook soon grew tired of his observations, and stood at his full height, his gaze boring down upon he despondent girl.

"Help me with my jacket." Hook ordered as he stood, knowing full well the girl would do as he said, even though she despised having to do so. He nodded towards the crushed red velvet jacket hanging on the back of the chair within reach. Wendy grasped it, depressed that she hadn't found any weapon in the pockets of the jacket to use against him. Sullenly she made her way over to him, looking up to see a cunning expression upon Hook's face.

She ignored it, and helped him into the sleeves of his jacket, which when she stepped back to survey it was on properly, she observed suited him handsomely if she didn't look near the claw. He may have been a formidable and cold-blooded figure, but he had a certain class and gentlemanly quality that had her slightly in awe of him at times.

"Would you mind doing up the buttons, dear girl?" His voice seeped into her subconscious and she absently shook her head of her prior thoughts. She nodded half-heartedly, idly wondering if he was just being difficult, or he sincerely needed her help. Still she helped him with this mundane task, starting at the bottom of his jacket as she usually did when she had helped Michael as a small child with his sweaters.

"Does Smee usually help you in the mornings?" Wendy inquired, hoping for some civil conversation and to stave off the sudden awkwardness of the moment.

"He does."

"Am I to be expected to help you in the mornings from now on?" Wendy offered despondently, knowing the inevitable answer before it was uttered.

"It seems convenient, does it not?"

Wendy continued her upward journey of his buttons, her eyes on her busily working fingers. "If it is a matter of convenience over preference, I would rather not."

"However, I _demand_ you assist me," Hook said with slight irritation at her defiance. "You must earn your keep somehow."

"Earn my keep?" Wendy said outraged, "but, I am a prisoner!"

"Miss Darling I shall feed you and I shall clothe you," Hook said with his voice at an extremely low decibel. "But do not delude yourself into thinking this is some sort of holiday. You are on my ship, prisoner or not, and you shall assist me when I demand it."

Wendy did not reply, but her fingers continued their daunting task upward, coming to the middle of his chest hurriedly, for she wished to turn from him as soon as it was possible.

"Leave that one undone," Hook said in a throaty voice as Wendy reached the button just below his neck. She did so, and found that she could not move. Not for Hook's icy grip, or the rope around her ankle, but because she felt a sudden pull that prohibited her from moving backward. She looked up into the face of Hook, and did not see malice. For a flicker of a second, Wendy saw something in Hook's eyes that she had not seen in any man's.

She remembered his lips then, and her eyes fell to his mouth. It had thrilled and frightened her when he kissed her savagely. What were these grown up feelings that confused her? Hook had displayed civility. He had been a grand gentleman now and then. He had even been cordial at times when she was sure he would have had her murdered. But he was a dangerous man. A murderer. She was his pawn, and she hadn't any clue as to how long her life would be whilst upon this reached ship.

But people changed, did they not?

Wendy was a girl that had been taught that even the proverbial leopard may change its spots some time or another. That one should be given a second chance. But...there was still something of unease in Captain Hook. There was something glittering in those pale eyes that demanded further scrutiny. And so Wendy looked deeper into that formidable gaze of Hook, and saw something none other had. At the sight of it, she grew quite breathless with shock.

The spell that had wound itself around Hook and Wendy was broken in that instant, for it was Hook that moved backwards, swallowing thickly. He paled, for he had seen in her face that she had uncovered something about him. But what and how?

"I shall take my leave," Hook said, clearing his throat and grasping his large hat from the coat rack. He prepared to duck out the cabin door when he turned back to Wendy and saw her troubled eyes. He drew back over to her, and dramatically took her small hand in his own.

"Have a good morning, Miss Darling." He placed a soft kiss upon her knuckles."I shall return in the early evening, and perhaps we will talk further then."

At that Hook rushed out the door, closing it behind him. Wendy listened earnestly, and heard the soft click that was her imprisonment. She had cried all the tears in her being, and for the moment was dried up. She crawled back upon her bed solemnly, looking to the ceiling in distaste. She turned on her side, tracing the embroidery of his pillows with her hand absently. Her mind turned to her family, and of Peter.

She had been quite deluded in that small cellar the day before. She had thought she'd heard the cries of her brother's on the deck above her. How strangely the mind works in times of extreme chaos. Now on the bed of the Captain, Wendy sat up and looked around at her surroundings more closely. She stepped off the bed, but went not much farther. She started with the table beside the bed, and saw it held nothing. Since she was prohibited from moving farther, only her eyes moved to the dresser, noticing in distain that all the drawers were locked tightly, and only one man held the key.

There was also a lock on Hook's claw case. And as she looked at it now, Wendy knew it would be impossible to throw. It was sure to be unnaturally heavy, and she was weak with fatigue and depression. And so Wendy let her eyes dance around the cabin several times, looking for anything that could cause damage and that she could reach. There were books, many of them but they were useless and much too far.

There were really no weapons to speak of. Wendy should have known it. Hook would never let her alone in this room without some sort of knowledge that she would not find anything that could potentially injure a man such as himself.

Besides, even if there were some way to pick the locks holding an array of weaponry, Wendy would never know, as she was tied quite tightly to the post of the large bed. There was no point in fighting him, at least not now. Should Wendy fail, she knew her treatment would undoubtedly worsen. She also knew she would never make it off the ship with those fools on deck. She needed to strategize. She needed to know the best time to attempt escape.

At this Wendy allowed herself to smile for the first time since she'd been captured. It was a broad and glowing smile of hope, and one that was accompanied with an almost giggle of joy. She would be arriving home soon enough.

********

Back in the Jungle of Neverland, a group of boys of varying heights and ages were in a full out hollering contest with one another. All looked completely beside themselves, especially two of the taller boys. The night had been short, and those involved in battle had fallen asleep instantly. But now, in the new light of the morning, familiar feelings were aroused. "He's got our sister!" Michael called out in fury as he looked to the anguished Peter sitting darkly on a large tree stump.

"How can you just sit there?"

"I made my promise." Peter replied testily.

"Should you desire to see Wendy alive, we must obey Hook's orders." Michael and John exchanged looks of mutual shock.

There memories had returned with them, the moment they had agreed to the young boy's request to return with him to a land called Neverland. Under normal circumstances, the analytical John would have declined, as would have Michael in turn. But it was when the boy mentioned their missing Wendy, that their interests were caught. It was with that first sprinkling of fairy dust that Michael's eyes flashed with recognition.

"Peter!" And John had called out to the boy himself, and before they knew what was happening, they were out the nursery window and into the black sky where stars called out to Peter. And now, in the Jungle of their childhood dreams, John and Michael had grown serious. For it was no longer mere child's play. Their sister Wendy was indeed missing, and as brothers, they found it their duty to save her

. "You are a poor hero boy," John condemned Peter furiously. For he knew that he and Michael alone could not take on a ship filled with angry pirates. "Do you think I wish to see her live on that pirate ship instead of in her home?" Cried an anguished Peter.

"I haven't a choice don't you see?" The Lost Boys, who had been silent this entire time, now huddled together, speaking in hitched whispers Peter could not identify. He did not seem to care much though, for he was listlessly upon the tree stump, thinking of his Wendy.

As he is eternally a boy, Peter is not troubled with adult thoughts and problems. And so now, confronted with such, had taken a lot out of the lad. Toodles stole over to where John and Michael were fuming together. He pulled on the eldest boy's shirts sleeve, and whispered hurriedly into his ear when his head declined to the boy's mouth.

John's eyes, that had previously been dulled, turned a bright shade, brighter still until they almost resembled the hot sun above them. And when Toodles had proudly finished, the young man stood straight, looking to Peter with sudden hope. Peter caught the look in John's eyes, and raised a childish eyebrow in question.

"He said you were not to return, Peter," John said with a roguish grin. A grin that Peter was finally able to return as John finished with a flourish. "He said nothing of _us_ returning."


	10. Fame, fame that glittering bauble

Wendy had been in the cabin by herself for at least four hours, and already she was completely suffering from extreme boredom.

For a girl like herself was usually surrounded by that which entertained. Should she feel like reading, she would grab a book. Should she desire to sew, she would do so. Why, she'd even had piano lessons (at her father's insistence that all polished young ladies played piano) and enjoyed it so she'd quite excelled.

But she was captive in a small cabin, and utterly depressed about it. Not only because she was never to see her family again, those thoughts came and went often, but because she was able only to lie upon the bed, or stand on the floorboards beside her bed. She'd of course begun pulling at the rope, only to discover that Hook had tied them quite tightly around her ankles in a (rope name) formation.

The one formation, try as she might and as much as she practiced at home, she could never undo. Knowing that release was not to be soon, she'd resigned herself to playing idle games to pass the morning. She'd already whistled all the tunes she could remember, had recited all the Latin and French teaching she could recall, and looked at the cabin once for a long while before closing her eyes tightly, trying to recall as many of the objects in the room as she could before she eventually relented and opened her eyes in dismay to see she'd missed an absent pot and forgotten quill.

It was an extremely tedious morning, and so when there was a knock at the cabin door, instead of being rude about the intrusion, Wendy quite eagerly welcomed any visitor who may arrive.As luck would have it, it was a jovial Smee carrying what seemed to be a small package, tied childishly with a long string of seaweed. It reminded Wendy of the various presents she'd made for her mother as a child, absently wrapped with crinkles and points sticking out all over. Her mother would always give a smile in delighted surprise, which would please Wendy immensely, and so in accordance Wendy did the same for an appreciative Smee.

Smee was a dear fellow and not as callous as the others who inhabited the Jolly Roger. Therefore, Wendy was rather welcoming of his sudden appearance. She rather enjoyed the Irish lilt to his voice, and the way his eyes crinkled behind his spectacles when he smiled.

"Hullo Miss."

"Good morning Smee."

"This is from the Captain," Smee said, placing the package at the end of the bed. Wendy overlooked his business like manner. Instead her curiosity was peaked as she looked to the package upon the bed. "What is it?" Smee looked a bit taken aback at this question, for he felt it should be evident.

"Why, an evening dress, Miss."

"And why should I have need of an evening dress, Mister Smee?" Wendy almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Imagine needing a fancy dressing gown on the high seas!

"The Captain wishes it," Was Smee's compliant reply as he shrugged to her. And although Wendy saw no need for this impromptu gift, she accepted it with a small and courteous nod.

"Thank you."

Smee gave her a small bow, and prepared to leave, much to Wendy's dismay. She had been hoping for at least a bit of a conversation. Smee was not as crude as the others, and while did not have the dashing quality of the Captain's verbal prose, he was most indeed a treat to converse with. But as it would appear, Smee's arrival had been as messenger only, and not for her enjoyment.

He'd made it to the door when he'd stopped suddenly, looking very confused. Then as if on afterthought, Smee gently slapped his palm to his forehead and made his way over to Wendy in a hurried fashion. She was excited a moment at his suddenly return, thinking that he may have an intriguing story to tell her, or wish to hear one of her own. This was until she viewed Smee reaching into his pocket in worried haste, and obvious purpose.

"I almost forgot," He said apologetically to her. "This as well."

Wendy opened her palm as Smee placed a small cloth upon it. Wendy thanked him once more, and waited until he had left and the door was closed before she opened it. Wendy was wary of any gift given to her by the Captain. Even though he had been most cordial, and even gentle at times, Wendy knew to be continually on her guard around him. She looked at the object in her hand, and weighed it mildly in her hand.

It was not heavy, but it was not light. It was as if she were holding a fair sized stone in her palm. When the covered object was finally unveiled, Wendy did look upon it in quiet awe. It was a small comb, no longer than her hand, with a breathtaking gold seashell at the top. Along the bottom of the shell were several red rubies glinting up at Wendy enticingly. It was the very comb of her dreams and for the first time Wendy was aware that there were many facets to James Hook that she had not even come close to touching upon.

Smee came over to his superior, his breathing ragged from his hastily made journey from the cabin back on deck where an earnest James Hook was waiting impatiently, visibly agitated.

“Well?”

"Well what, Captain?"

Hook rolled his eyes temporarily irritated before he looked back to Smee, back to the only person Wendy trusted upon this vessel, his only mutual link to the young woman. He himself been waiting a good five minutes upon the deck for his minion to return to him and now that he had, Hook found Smee to be entirely useless at crucial times such as these. Smee often did not sense the urgency of a moment, but he was a loyal man, and therefore Hook was certain he should not kill him.

"What was her response to the gift?" Hook asked greedily, wanting to know every detail. The look of her eyes, had she smiled? Had she inquired further about him? Had she seemed worried? Hook finally decided upon a rather generic: "Was she pleased?"

"Oh," Smee said as if remembering and then looking rather hesitant. "She seemed rather...well, rather _confused_ , Captain."

He shied from the Captain then, for this was surely not the response Hook was waiting for. He had been waiting upon this deck for the girl's reply, and 'confused' undoubtedly would leave the Captain displeased. And when the Captain was displeased, he seemed to favor conversing with the claw.

"She did say, ' _thank you_ '," Smee added hastily, but did not include whom the girl had directed this thanks towards.

Hook walked along the deck of the ship then, with Smee trailing alongside him, hoping the sea air would calm his irritable superior. Hook's face was truly unreadable, for he'd long since mastered a look of complete indifference when there was a tumultuous hurricane within. It was the sign of a truly good leader. But, there was one give away within the Captain's face, and it lay within his eyes. If Smee were to find even the slightest trace of red, he would not live to see another sunrise.

And so, minutes later with Hook barking orders now and then at those they walked past, Smee finally did find the courage to look to the eyes of Hook and breathe a sigh of soft relief. For the eyes Smee viewed were pale and did not contain the slightest of angry inclinations. Only a pale blue shone from the eyes of the Captain, and he did not strike Smee nor did he seem irritated at the girl's response.

"Did you remember the comb?" Hook asked suddenly, and Smee was glad to have remembered, for at certain times he was a most forgetful fellow. If he had forgotten in this particular case, he knew he would have regretted it dearly.

"I did."

"What was her response then?"

"I'm not sure, Captain," Smee faltered, "You see she would not open it up until I left. You know girls and their privacy. She probably loved it though Captain, girl's love jewelry."

"Stop your blabbering, Smee" Hook waved off Smee's company with a lazy hand, thankful for the peace. Smee did blather on when anxious. Hook's eyes drew upon the wide blue of the ocean then. It was a marvelous day, which meant that Pan was well. It was good to have him well, Hook knew, for the sole purpose of fine weather.

Winter was such a bother, that it almost pained him as it came to his ship. Everything so unnaturally cold and still. It was the only thing Hook was actually appreciative of when it came to Pan, how he brought the fine weather. Now though, his mind was on the unwilling Wendy.

A challenge. She obviously did not know of his hunger for a challenge. With Pan undoubtedly out of the way, he was free to enjoy the thrill of the hunt, as it were, with Miss Darling solely, no distractions.

"She is a queer girl," Hook finally mused to himself, almost smiling gently. "It shall be a grand adventure to find out exactly why."

It was early evening when Hook returned to the small cabin where Wendy resided. He had the good grace to knock before he entered, not that it mattered. Wendy had not changed from her London clothes, and was lying upon the bed in a bored haze trying to count all the nails in the roof she could see.

"Come in." She had hoped it was Smee, but seeing the Captain's familiar face (and not noticing the bouquet of unique flowers he held in his arms) she simply sneered, and turned from him.

"Good evening, Miss Darling," Hook said in a most cordial fashion, slightly irritated at her frigid welcome. But Wendy had been raised with manners, and should she be approached with such, she was to return the favor.

"Good evening, Captain."

"Have you bathed?"

"Yes," Wendy replied with a blush, not seeing as how it was any of Hook's concern. Several of his men had come in, with Smee and Hook's key in hand, and dropped a large basin of warm water before the bed. When they'd left, she'd made a tent from the bed over she and the makeshift tub as she bathed. She'd been more than welcome of the gift, and used the varying perfumes accompanying such to wash her hair, although bathing was a trial when bound. But now her prior cheer was gone. She was still Hook's prisoner.

"You are not dressed." Hook said, his eyes starting to darken as he viewed the untouched package on the chair beside the bed. If one were to look, they would see just a flicker of red around his pupil before he calmed himself, and it was gone.

"I am not."

"And why are you not?" Hook said testily, not appreciating this game of hers.

"I do not wish to join you for dinner. I am not hungry." Wendy was shocked at her own rudeness. It was a lie of course, for Wendy's stomach rumbled then through her words, for she hadn't eaten all day.

"You are not required to eat," Hook retorted smoothly, inhaling deeply. "I simply desire your company this evening."

"I'm afraid that I won't be up to it tonight," Wendy said, turning to him then, feeling the slightest pangs of guilt.

She was a compassionate girl, and Hook's words had managed to chip away at her resolve. But she was also a clever girl and knew that this was just Hook's plan to fool her into thinking he was a kind and patient man. Hook was still, with his eyes burning into her face. She could not breathe properly, and she found she had to look away from his dangerously placid face. Perhaps he would leave?

"I believe I made myself quite clear earlier," Hook said dangerously polite, the red in his eyes beginning to glow ever so slightly. "While on my ship, you shall obey my orders."

"I am not on your ship out of free will," Wendy countered, coming off the bed and standing as far from the bed as she was able. She gave him a most cooling gaze and turned her head from him to show her feelings on the subject.

"I would appreciate it if you would leave."

Hook did not know what infuriated him more. The fact that she made him feel a stranger in his own room, or the fact that he'd prepared a fine dinner for her just to have it thrown in his face. Either way, it was not becoming of a young lady, nor was it how any Captain was treated. In an instant the flowers he'd brought were dropped to the floor, and he had rushed over and gripped the girl's upper arm in his tight grasp as he glared down at her furiously.

"You are a truly spoiled child, Wendy Darling."

"Get your hands off of me," She finally spoke lowly, feeling more timid that her bold words would suggest. "I am not spoiled, I've just never been treated as shamefully as this!"

Hook was furious at her actions and her words. Furious at her for making him feel a stranger in his own private rooms. What right had she to make him feel unwelcome on his own ship? And hadn't he given her as much as he could so far? A nice room? A certain amount of privacy? A lovely dress and comb she surely desired? Suddenly his hand squeezed tighter around Wendy's arm, causing a trickle of fear and pain to shoot through her.

"You _will_ join me for dinner this evening!" Hook barked into Wendy's frightened face, "And you will be civilized or no amount of Pan's promise keeping will keep you from my wrath!"

"You're hurting me!" Wendy squealed more out of fright than out of pain. Hook dropped her arm moments later, giving her a most withering look that she knew she must obey. He towered over her when standing before her, and Wendy was suddenly aware of just how strong a man he was. Should she wish to escape from the clutches of James Hook, she would have to be most creative

. "I shall return in less than an hour," Hook growled as Wendy crawled back onto the bed, feeling so small and helpless then. Hook glanced over his shoulder, administering the final threatening blow upon the nearly shaking young woman.

"Unless you wish to suffer far worse punishment," Hook warned with a derisive sneer in Wendy's direction before he left her alone in the cold cabin. "Do not keep me waiting."


	11. The only man whom Barbecue Feared

When Hook finally slammed and locked the door behind him, Wendy was able to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes, and look at the package Smee had brought her that morning.

Knowing Hook was to return soon, and not wanting to be caught undressed, Wendy hurried to grasp the package, and open its seaweed wrapped confinements. She noted the green paper the dress was wrapped in, was not paper at all, but a large leaf. Wendy pulled out the long, crimson colored dress from its package. It was a bold, screaming color, and not something a girl like Wendy would ever wear.

She was more accustomed to light blue, a soft pink or pale yellow. When she did put it on, this gown came to the edges of her shoulders, showing her neck and collar far too much to be considered modest, and did not contain sleeves (This sort of fashion was popular in London among women of aristocracy).

The design dancing around the bosom of the dress was of spun gold, in a design so intricate, surely only gnomes had created it (For as many know, Gnomes are frightfully talented at making delicate things you'd never suspect.) It was a bit of a tight fit, but the bottom of the ornate dress (which bottom was teased with gold design as well) trailed behind her in a long fashion, much like when she'd played dress up in her mother's fine party dresses when she was young. There was a pair of red and gold slippers within the package as well, and Wendy pulled them onto her feet now with a great and heavy sigh.

She could only pull half of herself into the broken mirror, for the ropes upon her legs were still tight. And the half that she did see was most unsettling, for she felt half naked without a shawl of sorts. And she knew that she could not simply imagine a shawl to aid her. Her shoulders were bared for the most part, and the dark crimson of the dress made her appear paler than usual. But contrary to what she may have believed, it did not look completely awful. She looked almost delicate. She looked at the long comb, and drawing the edges of her dark hair behind her she secured it tightly and sighed darkly.

She moved an inch backwards, her eyes back to the mirror until she felt something sharp dig into the bottom of her slippers. She cried out in surprise before looking down to see the fallen flowers Hook had brought her before. She hadn't even noticed them until now. She crouched over, smoothing the petals absently with her fingers. They were most unusual flowers, colors and shapes of which she had never seen in London.

_Flowers from Hook?_

Although, he was a man of class and polish. Anyone could see that in his verbal talent, and manners that put many to shame. Hook was a strange man, and Wendy found it hard to imagine that there may be some good in him. No. She mustn't think like that. It would do nothing to become weak. If she were to escape from Hook's unrelenting grasp, she would bid her time. She would be a polite prisoner, and perhaps fall under the radar of his confinement. Perhaps then, she would find her freedom. Hook meanwhile stood at the helm of the ship, looking gray and dismal.

He'd been standing there at the ship's wheel, looking more than depressed than ever for more than an hour. Smee came over a while after noticing his Captain's black mood, to inquire after the source. But alas, Smee did not see the red that still remained in the renowned Captain's eyes.

"Brimstone and gall man!" Hook had roared, furiously at his companion. "Give me a moment to myself!"

Smee had rushed off then, not waiting to have a run in with the gruesome claw. Hook had watched darkly after the man's departure, offering a lost sigh as he turned to face the sea more fully. Hook was despairing though, for in the blackest heart of the darkest man, there is always something to be found that could be good. Hook may have been evil at times, but he was prone to good moods every now and then. At this time, his ego had been crushed.

He had brought the girl flowers; he had given her expensive things. And still she had rejected him fully. He knew that her capture was obviously straining, but what more could he do? He'd kept Miss Darling for two main purposes. Firstly, to taunt Pan all he liked for as long as he liked. Secondly, because Miss Darling was a bright and polished young lady, and he wished for someone to talk to at night and of course, to warm his bed should he wish it. But she was proving to be more than he expected.

But he did not want to give her up or kill her. He was like a spoiled child with a favored toy. Even though it wasn't all that it was once before he did not wish to give it up, or throw it away completely. This entire ordeal was mighty confusing, but Hook hadn't time to mull over these facts any longer.

He was already late for dinner with the dear Miss Darling. Wendy sat inside the dining cabin (as Smee had referred to it as, but was really just Hook's previously charred cabin), uncomfortably silent as she did so. It had been several minutes since Smee had come to retrieve her, placing her alone in front of a cold, bare table. Her feet had been bound to the table, which she sat before, and she had been utterly complacent. She'd barely moved a bit, allowing a relieved Smee to go about tying her. Smee would undoubtedly tell his superior of her good behavior and she would perhaps be granted more authority on the ship.

She felt slightly chilly, for the sun had set not long ago, and there was an uncommon chill going through the ship. It was then Wendy wished she'd brought some matter of covering for her shoulders. There were many candles around in the room, lighting it dimly, but none were within her grasp. She was perturbed however, since Hook, who as a gentleman was usually early for everything, had still not arrived for a dinner that was undoubtedly growing cold. Little did Wendy know that Hook currently stood outside the door of his dining cabin, smoothing his hair absently, making sure that no one saw him.

To look nervous or excessively vain in front of one's inferiors was truly a sign of weakness. And whilst Hook would admit to being fairly vain if needed, (most great leaders are from time to time) he would not admit to being nervous. He resigned that a mere girl like Wendy Darling would not cause him any more discomfort that if he were forced to walk his own plank for Hook was not afraid of anything. He opened the door then, filled with a great sense of purpose. His eyes drew around the door to fall upon a most welcome sight. Dear Wendy Darling sat at the table, looking sullen, but most enticing in her garments.

"Good evening."

Wendy's head jerked up at the sound as her troubled eyes fell upon that of the resplendent Captain. He had dressed for the occasion, looking what any rational woman would undoubtedly refer to as dashing. It would seem he'd intended on their dressings to be similar, for he was dressed in a new red jacket with gold embroidery that matched that of her dress. He'd shaved, leaving only the barest of a moustache, his hair seemed neat and glossy and smelled absolutely divine. His boots made a large sound in the quiet room, and Wendy simply watched his journey from the door to the empty space next to where she sat.

She did not shudder when he took her hand in his own, pressing his lips to her fingers lightly.

"You look breathtaking, my beauty," Hook said genuinely with a sweeping movement of his eyes along her body. It was unusual to see the girl in anything but drab, gray, clothing. Wendy did not reply, for she found that she hadn't the voice to do so. His hand gently left her own, and she dragged her hand back to its usual position upon her lap.

"Oh my," Hook suddenly tsked, looking to the girl's bound feet under the table. "They've bound you, have they?"

No other was more surprised than Wendy when the Captain bent down, and with a derisive slice, cut through the bondage of the ropes around her ankles. She could only watch in awe as he righted himself,

"This is to be an enjoyable evening," he said to her questioning face. "It is doubtful that anyone could be expected to enjoy themselves when bound to a table, is it not?"

Wendy could only nod dumbly as the Captain smiled back, seating himself across the table from her. She noted he had a rather decorative wood chair, with plush deep purple cushion upholstery. It was a dark and seductive color, Wendy thought to herself. Suddenly Hook rung a small bell nearby, a shrill chime. In an instant, Smee rushed into the cabin with a large silver platter. He brought it hastily to the table, along with plates and silverware.

He arranged all of them upon the table in a neat formation and uncovered the meal with a dramatic flourish. Wendy looked upon the food and could barely contain her delight. Inside the platter laid a delicious smelling chicken, cooked perfectly, surrounded in delicious looking potatoes. Her stomach growled, for she was perfectly ravenous, having not eaten for a long while.

"Is it to your liking?" Hook asked her in a most gentile fashion.

Wendy, momentarily forgetting all her distaste for the Captain, nodded vigorously, her eyes upon the meal before her. He nodded back, offering a gentle: "Good."

He nodded for Smee to take his leave, and the man did quickly. Hook was able then to turn his full attention to the girl before him, with eyes so wide and eager he could not help a chuckle from escaping him. When Wendy looked to him in surprise, he did not explain himself but instead placed a large serving upon her plate, and handed it to her momentarily. She took it happily, offering a polite thank you.

Hook brought two goblets of wine to the table, handing one to Wendy, whom took it cautiously. She would have informed him that she did not drink, even on social occasions, but was rather preoccupied with something lacking in her meal.

"I've no utensils," Wendy observed rather desperately, noticing the Captains knife and fork as he began to eat his own dinner. His eyes drew to her own, his eyebrow raising in question. "Why of course not," Hook drawled lazily, as if it were common for women to simply eat meals with their hands." Do you think me simple? I know of what you are capable of." Wendy scowled at his words,

"But I am so frightfully hungry."

"Who is prohibiting you from eating?" Hook asked in faux wonder. Wendy's voice took on a slight tinge of a haughty quality that Hook found immensely amusing, for at times she seemed a young girl trying far to desperately to appear a woman.

"A lady does not eat with her hands."

"She does if she is truly hungry," Hook replied with ease. He raised a large forkful of chicken to his lips and noting the hungry look in the girl's eyes, he slipped it into his mouth almost lovingly, attaining a look upon his features of pure bliss for her sole irritation."Delicious."

Wendy's eyes drew back to her own meal, surely growing cold. She sat in stony silence, and stubborn anger. She did not want to give the Captain any satisfaction, and so when she was sure his attention was somewhere else, she grasped the smallest piece of potato between her thumb and forefinger and slipped it discreetly into her mouth. But of course, Hook had seen it all.

"I am not blind, Miss Darling." He said bemused at the girl's subtle actions. "And I assure you, I will not think it disgraceful of you to eat with your hands, given the current situation."

Wendy blushed slightly, but thought this to be some sort of excuse for such barbarian actions. During the course of their meal, Wendy did eat with her hands, but in the most ladylike fashion you or I have ever seen. After each bite, she would clean her fingertips with her napkin, dabbing the corners of her mouth for good measure.

"I know that we have not started on the best of terms," Hook suddenly said, downing the remains of his drink. "But I think it high time we got to know one another."

Wendy, feeling slightly more amiable now that she had eaten, was willing to disclose a bit, at the knowledge it would perhaps give Hook more trust in her. "What do you wish to know?"

"I wish to know of you," Hook said carefully. "All I know of you now is that you come from London, you have two brothers whose names elude me at the present time, and no longer fancy becoming a pirate. So please do indulge my curiosity and tell me what exactly makes up a young woman like Wendy Darling, at present?"

Wendy could not lie that she was flattered at the attention Hook was bestowing upon her. Why, Jack had never even looked twice at her and here a grown man like Hook seemed almost mesmerized by her as she spoke. "Well," She said, rather shyly, "I am a rather ordinary girl-"

"Lies," Hook said simply with a wave of his hand. "Do start again Miss Darling, I most certainly do not wish to hear this rubbish. You are anything but ordinary my dear, even you must know that."

Wendy blushed at this comment, feeling rather embarrassed and pleased all at once. It was a new feeling, but one that Wendy did not mind as much as she would have thought.

"Tell me of life after Neverland," Hook suddenly pressed looking intrigued.

"Well," Wendy said, beginning again, "After my first return from Neverland, mother was nearly beside herself with relief. And while I was pleased to arrive home safely with my brothers, I still wished to slip back with Peter. My mother would have none of that of course, but Peter and she made a bargain for he is a rather charming boy. I was allowed to return for Peter's spring cleaning, once a year. That was their bargain."

Hook nodded patiently at this, not finding the topic of choice very agreeable. But Wendy had stopped telling the story for Hook's benefit, and instead seemed to be speaking to herself. "And as with Peter, things were never done in the usual way. It was two years of waiting for Peter to come and retrieve me. I had bought a new dress for the occasion, and had grown too tall for it when he finally did come for me. But the silly boy acted as if no time at all had passed and I was so overjoyed to see him that I did not mind."

"And so the spring cleaning went well?" Hook said almost bored, sure that the boy had brought her much delight and joy. Joy a man like Hook did not know of himself.

"Yes," Wendy said with a gentle nod.

"And the spring after that?"

"It was another year missed, but he did come for me the following year."

"And the spring after that?" Hook said uneasily, for Wendy had started to grow somber in tone and stature. She shook her head at the Captain's query, and tried to compose herself as she spoke.

"No. He simply stopped coming."

Wendy did not enjoy crying in front of a man such as Hook, but now could not stop the singular tear of regret from slipping down her cheek quickly, as if ashamed. "And what then?" Hook encouraged, not wishing for the girl to remain in such dull spirits.

"Surely there were adventures of your own to be had?" Wendy's head was raised again, and so it would seem, had her heart. "I'm afraid they are most dull adventures in comparison to those we have seen here. They are dreadfully commonplace, and contain nothing of magic within them."

"Do tell me of them nonetheless," Hook suggested, hiding his obvious interest poorly. "Boring stories of a truly common life and no magic may still entertain me yet."

And so Wendy did tell him of her life. Of her loving parents George and Mary, of her dog Nana, of her school and friends, of her nursery and story telling, of her mother's hidden kiss and her father's ability to price everything, of her brother John's ability to do numbers in his head quite quickly and Michaels ability to jump higher than any boy his age. And through these simple stories, Hook began to change.

It wasn't something as noticeable as a smile or a grin that you could see. It was in the softening of his eyes, and the way his lip settled quite comfortable together, and the way his back seemed to lean against his chair in a mildly lazy manner. But there was magic within Wendy's stories, but not a magic that could be seen as easily as fairy dust or mermaids.

"And of course there is my fiancé, Jack," Wendy said quickly, not wishing to speak of him more than needed. But he fit into her reasoning for leaving London so well, that it seemed a shame to skip him over.

"Fiancé?" Hook said grandly at this point, looking more interested than ever as he surveyed her hands.

"I see no ring upon your finger."

"I did not accept his offer," Wendy said simply, pinking slightly under Hook's gaze. "I do not wish to marry."

"Ever?" asked Hook in a way that reminded Wendy remarkably of her father.

"Ever." Wendy sighed then, for some reason expecting the same shock from Hook as she had received from her family. But instead there was a gleam in the Captain's eyes, a gleam of a man that has accepted a rather large challenge that he is sure to win.

"Grand choice, Miss Darling!" He exclaimed, looking rather pleased. "Marriage is for truly weak individuals."

"I wouldn't say that," Wendy replied hastily, thinking of her own parents. "I just don't suppose I was meant to be married."

"Not meant to be?"

"What I mean to say is," Wendy said, struggling slightly for the words. "There are certain friends of mine, who have known all along they are to meet their Prince Charming."

"I see."

"And well," Wendy was starting to feel rather vulnerable as she spoke. "I've never thought that. I did not wish for my Prince Charming, because it would mean-" Wendy stopped mid sentence, for she was suddenly certain she could hear the faint strings of a violin being played just outside the door. Her attention was drawn to the said door, as the sweet and soulful song played into the room, slightly dimmed.

"Who is that playing?" Wendy inquired after the Captain, looking suddenly soothed.

"Smee," said Hook simply, pleased at her now calm demeanor. Wendy nodded slightly, her eyes gently dropping as if being weighted down heavily. She felt suddenly drowsy.

"Do you enjoy the medley?" Hook said after a bit, his eyes on the downcast face of Wendy, her eyes still gently shut. She opened them then, looking to Hook's expectant face. "I do."

"Then it is yours." Wendy's attention was piqued, but in confusion as she looked back to the Captain's face.

"Mine?"

"I composed it myself," Hook said nonchalantly, seemingly indifferent. "Since you find it pleasing, I shall call it Wendy's song."

Wendy was flattered at that, and so she allowed herself a small smile at the grand gesture. It was not every day a man of Hook's position dedicated one of his own compositions for a girl like her.

"Thank you."

Hook nodded graciously, and they lapsed back into a most comfortable silence as the song ended, but it left a mark upon them both. It was Wendy however who broke the silence, for she realized that her feelings of hatred for the Captain did not burn as they had before.

"I did not know Smee played the violin," Wendy said after a moment, wishing the Captain to say something rude or vulgar to make her hate him all over again. "I taught him." Hook said, and seeing her puzzled yet polite expression he continued rather hastily.

"Before my accident."

"Oh," Wendy said, and a bit of her real self came out. "I always longed to learn the violin, but my father insisted on piano lessons."

Suddenly Hook was intrigued, "Why, do you play?"

"Yes," Wendy said with a nod, her face brightening. "I did so enjoy my lessons."

"Then you must play now," Hook demanded lightly, pulling back his chair and going over to where Wendy sat. He pulled back her chair like a true gentleman and drew her over to where his harpsichord sat idly. Wendy was suddenly very nervous as she sat before it, looking to its keys nervously. What if she was to play horridly? What if he scoffed at her feeble attempts? But Hook would eventually demand she play something, Wendy felt. And she had made several compositions of her own. It would not hurt to play them would it? To have a bit of fun before she made her escape?

Hook stood behind her as she sat before the piano, so close she could feel the warmth of his body on her back. She swallowed thickly, not used to a grown man to be near her at such a close proximity. Tentatively her hands were raised, and with a sudden twinkle of passion, her fingertips were playing. The sound that drifted out was the sweetest music one could hear. Wendy's eyes shut at the sound of her playing, for it seemed to be even sweeter in Neverland.

This sweet medley went on a while, with Hook watching her hands dance upon the keys so delicately, emitting such a sweet and pure sound he could not help but swallow thickly. And all too soon, it was finished and Wendy turned to look up to him expectantly. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes suddenly brightening.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Very much," Hook said when he found his voice. This pleased the girl greatly he could see, and something within him swelled delightfully. And Wendy so caught up in the moment of sudden elation and immense pleasure suddenly said the words she would come to regret soon.

"It shall be Hook's song then." Wendy declared kindly, looking to Hook's face," as a means of repayment."

Hook's face grew cloudy then, and he shook his head briefly much to Wendy's embarrassment and regret.

"I do not wish for it to be named after myself." The bright moment then stilled, turning from a happy, light feel to a suddenly graying one.

"Fine," Wendy said coldly, the bright and happy mood of the evening soon leaving her.

Hook noticed this and stood roughly, angry with himself and angry with her. Wendy stood as well, wishing she hadn't tried to be kind to a brute like him. She could not fathom James Hook.

"We shall retire to our room for the night," Hook said, offering his arm politely to her. Wendy felt a gurgle of excitement, for she was unbound and nearing the door. Her intentions must have shone clearly in her face, for Hook merely raised a curious eyebrow, accompanied with a small, knowing smirk. "If you are entertaining thoughts of escape my dear," Hook purred a few steps from her, "think of it no further, for I have spies all along the decks, as we speak, on the watch out for a certain young girl, such as yourself."

Wendy knew that he spoke the truth, and so her face dropped drastically. She tried to hide it, but knew that Hook had clearly seen her intentions. He gave her a stern look before he drew over to her, and Wendy took his proffered arm, knowing she had little choice in the matter.

"I do not intend for you to leave so soon." Hook unlocked the door, and they walked along the creaking planks to the cabin a few steps away. Wendy had not even had a breath of truly fresh air all day. They walked into the familiar cabin, and as Hook locked it behind him Wendy felt a twinge of disappointment.

Should she wish to escape, she would have to act at a time she knew to be sparse of pirate spies. She would bid her time. Wendy looked to the large bed and noticed another package upon her pillow, again wrapped in seaweed bindings.

"Is that for me?" she inquired after a tired looking Hook.

"Yes," he answered with a short nod, "I thought you may wish for some comfortable nightclothes and so I sent Smee out to purchase some I thought would be fitting."

Wendy was momentarily shocked at his generosity and she drew to the package, gently lifting the seaweed from around it, and holding the nightclothes up for full view. They were long nightgowns in varying colors of light cream. They were beaded at the collar with the smallest of pearls, which shone lightly. She looked to the Captain in minor shock.

"As long as you live upon my ship," Hook said in a voice that was almost kind, "you shall live in luxury. A lady such as yourself deserves the very best, after all."

"Thank you." There was a silence between them, in which both of them grew slightly uneasy. "I am tired," Hook suddenly announced brashly, "I believe this would be a most opportune time to retire." Wendy felt her bottom churning as he spoke, knowing very well that he meant for the same sleeping arrangements as the night before. And while Wendy had been unable to sway him into sleeping somewhere else, she had high hopes for this evening.

"Do you honestly wish for me to enjoy myself here?" Wendy inquired after the Captain, praying his answer would be the one she was searching for. So far he had been in a fairly good mood.

"Of course," Hook replied, giving Wendy the most tremendous relief. "I wish for your comfort, for when you are not acting the sulking child I do enjoy your company immensely."

"If you truly wished for my enjoyment upon your ship," Wendy said suddenly braver after Hook's last vague compliment. "You would give me my own rooms."

Hook surveyed the girl's face, and found that she was just unreadable as he. But, he decided in the end, if he were to take everything conceived as a weapon, he would be quite happy with that arrangement.

"As you wish," Hook said graciously, tipping his hat to her. He disappeared out the door a moment too short for Wendy to escape, and returned with several of his men. "Move that to my main cabin!" Hook ordered his men about like idiotic dogs that nodded and did so after every thing he said. "Every piece of furniture but the bed!"

Wendy watched as the several men loudly banged around, taking the dresser, bookcase, and everything from the room in a matter of minutes, leaving she alone with a content Hook.

"Does this suit you, my dear?"

"I suppose," Wendy said, not wanting to appear ungrateful after all that work. But there was nothing left for her to defend herself with, no glass, and no heavy books- Suddenly her mind whirled to the sharp comb within her hair! How could she have forgotten? That comb could pierce through the thickest of skin! Suddenly she was much happier, and offered the Captain a small: "Thank you."

She was suddenly very tired herself after the events of the day and offered a small yawn. Hook noted this, and before Wendy could say anything more he had drawn over to her, his good hand upon her cheek. Whenever Hook stood this close to her, Wendy forever felt the small wiggle in the pit of her stomach. It was the same feeling that occurred when going down the stairs too fast, and thinking there is a step to be felt underfoot when there isn't.

"I almost forgot." Hook said huskily, drawing close to her. Wendy felt her body shaking, for she knew that look well. She felt his hand traveling up the back of her neck, his touch so feathery light she felt her eyes closing. It was then that her rapidly quick beating heart stilled, for his lips came softly upon her own. Wendy's eyes remained closed, and while she did not move her own mouth against the Captain's, she found that she was quite breathless.

His mouth was much gentler, his lips more pliant and soft. His shiver inducing lips danced upon her own a moment before he pulled away, smiling softly at her, his eyes once more an entrancing pale blue.

"Goodnight my beauty."

Wendy could only nod and watch after his tall form as he left out the door, his hand placed behind his back in a most gentlemanly fashion. Wendy was almost pleased with the turn of events until she viewed her sharp comb in the hands of the Captain, glinting so merrily in the moonlight it appeared to be winking.


	12. The happy hunting ground

The next morning was a strange one indeed, for although Wendy had secretly forgiven the Captain for that which he claimed was imbedded in his nature, she knew that she had to get of this cursed ship. Last night had simply proven the fact that Wendy had known all along.

If the Captain had something to prove, he would do so without conscience. This was more than frightening, for Wendy knew that since Peter hadn't acted upon her rescue by now, he never would. That of course cut deeper than she could have anticipated, but it also brought the knowledge that she had only herself to rely on. She bathed and dressed, without the Captain's daily tutelage. She was thankful for this as she devised her plan.

She knew that the Captain would not stay away from her for long, if not out of desire to see her, to prove that he was forever in control. She felt anger building within her at this sentiment; at the fact that he believed he was so powerful. There is forever something alluring and altogether irritating in a person with such over confidence.

There was a light rap on her door, and Wendy felt her stomach sinking painfully to her lower abdomen. It was Hook, surely. She smoothed her hair absently, straightening her dress and looked to the door warily.

"Come in."

With a bright, bustling motion the door was opened, and in came Smee, looking to Wendy with a large smile upon his ruddy face. He gave her a strained smile, and Wendy realized that Hook had obviously confided in him the prior evening's altercation.

"Good morning, Mister Smee," Wendy said with forced cheer.

"Hullo there Miss Wendy," Smee responded lightly, placing a large plate of steaming breakfast upon her bureau.

It smelled delicious, and Wendy was more than pleased that it was Smee, and not the Captain. She wasn't sure if she would be able to stand him this early. After a few moments of idle chatter, in which Smee promised he'd be back shortly for her plates, the older man left, giving Wendy a slight bow, before locking her inside for the day.

Wendy heaved a mighty sigh, taking the tray from the bureau quickly, and carrying it to her bed. Sitting cross-legged before her meal (a freedom she was not granted at home), she began to casually cut her egg. It was through her second bite that Wendy realized something was amiss. In her right hand, she held a butter knife!

She had been given a lavish looking silver fork and knife combination to eat her meal with! She could only gape at it for a moment, most pointedly the knife. Smee had obviously forgotten that the Captain didn't wish for her to have such weaponry!

It was then, that Wendy realized her salvation.

****************

"You are a dreadfully poor card player, Miss Darling," Hook said with a short laugh, glancing the young girl over slowly. "You're eyes tell more than you ever could."

"I am not accustomed to engaging in such savage games," Wendy lied, for of course she and John had entered into several card games that involved betting. She'd just never been any good at it.

The evening had been stiff as soon as the Captain had come to see her just after dinner, which was after Smee had set up the card table in the middle of her room. When Smee had left her, she'd rushed to her side table, bringing out the butter knife she'd kept hidden there from breakfast. She was practically pulsating at the notion that she'd actually have a chance at escape and she would be able to return home.

_Home._

Ignoring the small niggle in her stomach, Wendy had crouched under the card table, and strategically placed the knife in one of the shallow metal folds of the table. The Captain had then arrived moments later, telling her she looked breathtaking, handing her a bouquet of delightful looking flowers -which she'd accepted stonily- before he had suggested a bit of leisurely card games.

"What are you thinking about?" Hook suddenly asked of her.

"Peter," Wendy replied truthfully. "I was thinking of Peter, and the Lost Boys and even Tinkerbell a little, even though she's frightfully rude to me whenever I see her."

Hook's jaw clenched, and his eyes turned back to the cards in his hand. He did not question Wendy further, and she could only assume that her answer had been wholly inappropriate. They'd been playing several moments now, and Wendy began to get the hand of it. She wouldn't admit that she was enjoying herself, for the thoughts of that hidden butter knife were slow to surface in her mind.

But the thought did come to her, and she was sure to act upon it when she found the moment to be appropriate. Wendy absently dropped her playing cards, as they all fluttered to the floor.

Giving the Captain a small forced smile of embarrassment, which he returned softly, she went under the table to retrieve them. She saw the large boots of Hook as she kneeled there under the card table; they shone brilliantly in the candlelight around the room. She could almost see her own reflection in them. The thudding in her abdomen grew heavier as she realized she could be caught at any moment. Now. For the knife she'd hidden. Wendy smiled then, her eyes turning into sly slits.

She looked upward, almost grinning as she looked to her secret hiding place-

But...where was the butter knife?

Wendy's face fell, and she was about to look again, search around when she felt a strong hand grasping her by the collar of her dress, dragging her out from under the card table and upturning it in the process, sending cards everywhere.

She gave a frightened squeal as she was dragged forward, and looked up into the face of Hook, his eyes as blue as forget-me-nots, and his lips curved into a furious sneer.

He had her kneeling before him, his hook dangerously balancing on the side of her throat. It was so cold and sharp, and made a strange, unearthly metallic sound as it lightly dragged against her flesh, leaving her unharmed, but more than a little frightened.

"Searching for something in particular, my dear?" He asked coolly, almost smirking. She saw the confidence and knowing smugness reflected in his eyes then.

"No sir," Wendy replied quickly, trying to look as innocent as possible. "I just couldn't find some of my cards in this dim light."

"Are you sure that is the only reason?" Hook asked edgily, his eyes burning into her own as he went on. "You're quite certain it wasn't a knife you were after?"

Wendy paled then, but said nothing. Hook knew though, for he knew much. He was a pirate, and undoubtedly had the room cleaned and searched daily. How stupid she had been to think that she could out fool the pirate king.

"Tsk tsk, you are such a nuisance at times Wendy," He went on lazily, pulling her closer to him. "But intellectual company such as yourself is quite a trial to find, and you are such a quick learner."

Wendy noticed the way his grin widened when he was correct, and how it attained that sinister, sneaky quality when he was preparing something awful. It was in that look that Wendy felt her stomach dropping, as she fervently wished she hadn't attempted escape at all.

"Don't you see, you stupid little girl?" Hook laughed cruelly in her face. "You belong to me now. You are my sole property. I found you, I brought you aboard my ship, and you are mine. Every part of you. Where is your precious Pan now?"

"I belong to no one!" Wendy whispered furiously, trying to quell the angry shakes that had begun all over her body. "Least of all, a monster like you."

"A monster," Hook said with a short nod. Moments of silence passed until he slightly raised his mutilated arm with its proud claw fiercely jutting out at the end of it. "Of course, only a true monster would have a hook like this, wouldn't they?"

"Not because of your hook!" Wendy said angrily, unable to understand why he was being so obtuse. She continued to struggle, finding herself growing weak with the minimal oxygen she was receiving. It was suddenly so very silent in the cabin, and all Wendy could hear was her own ragged breathing as they looked to one another.

"Not my hook," the captain slowly, as if he didn't fully understand, his voice so low and quiet. He felt his gaze scanning the girl's face, looking for any trace of falsehood.

"I couldn't care less about the hook," Wendy continued, her voice growing somber. "It's the fact that you are a cold blooded killer with absolutely no conscience."

Hook said and did nothing for several moments, and instead simply continued to gaze at Wendy's ashen face. He'd known all along she'd had something planned for him for he'd felt the butter knife under his skilled fingertips the moment they'd sat down to play. And now here she was, not any closer to trusting him, and he felt his anger simmering into melancholy despair, carefully hidden under a veneer of discontent. "

How wrong you are, Miss Darling."

Suddenly he pulled his face back; releasing the prior grip he had around her waist and nudged her back rudely with one boot. She fell onto her elbows, gasping in pain and relief. She looked up to him with wide eyes, her heart hammering so painfully in her chest.

"Here," Hook growled, tossing the butter knife onto the ground next to her. It clattered noisily in the room as Hook continued. "Finish me off then. Kill me. Murder me. See if you're any happier after you've slit my throat."

Wendy could only gape up at him, finding it even harder to breathe now that she was freed from his clutches. His dark boots were inches from her face and she feared she would be on the receiving end of it shortly. In minor defiance Wendy grasped the butter knife in one shaking hand, kneeling before Hook shakily, feeling too weak to even raise the knife. She felt desperate tears flooding her eyes and she choked them back poorly.

"Well go on!" Hook raged loudly, grasping Wendy's unwilling wrist and dragging her to a standing position before him as she struggled weakly. "Get it over with!"

"Let me go," Wendy begged as she squirmed, not surprised that he didn't relent even a little in his biting grasp. She regretted it all, everything she had planned, and wished for nothing more than to be left alone. This was all too much, all too frighteningly grown up.

She could not kill James Hook.

"Here," Hook responded coolly, his hand now on the wrist that shakily held her knife. In a violent jerking motion he had dragged the jagged edge of the weapon to his throat, pressing it lightly there. Wendy's face was paled in fright, and her wide eyes were focused upon the knife at Hook's throat.

"Tell me one thing first," Hook growled angrily, feeling Wendy's shaky form against his own. "Before you plunge that sharp steel into my neck, tell me why you wish to kill me. Tell me. Now."

"I-I wish to go home," was Wendy's frightened response.

Hook dragged his face closer to her own, until she could detect the scent of dark chocolate upon his breath, and feel one of his silken curls upon her cheek.

"Murdering me will not change a thing," Hook growled huskily into her ear. "Killing, and flying and having silly adventures will not stop any of it. The sooner you kill me, the sooner you will return home. Home to your parents who do not respect your decisions, home to your life of fiancés and broken dreams. Home to a life that will be nothing but emptiness. I have offered and given you it all-"

"With my freedom as the price," Wendy choked out, finally finding her voice.

She heard Hook sigh softly, and was filled with such confusion at his words.

"You are my prisoner," Hook finally uttered, as if convincing himself of the fact. "But..."

At this Hook's voice trailed off, and Wendy was left with that waiting, searching feel within her, desperately needing to know what he had been about to say next.

"I may be a monster, Wendy, but do not fool yourself into thinking that I haven't a conscience," Hook said darkly. "If I hadn't one, you would not be alive at this moment."

"If you had a conscience you would release me," Wendy whispered shakily, furious at the weakness in her tone. Hook's hand was still around her wrist, pressing the knife to his own neck calmly.

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yes."

"Then kill me," Hook replied flatly, his hand removing itself from her wrist quickly. "I shall make no attempt to stop you. The ship is practically deserted tonight, since my men are off engaging in some rather lurid activities. Kill me. Have your precious freedom. But as in any gentleman's game, I shall only give you until the count of three."

Wendy's trembling hand still held the knife to Hook's throat, her eyes completely focused upon it. Its flinty blade glinted at her, almost urging the kill.

"One."

Wendy was startled at the sound of Hook's loud voice, so low and rumbling that she gasped, her hand jerking at the sound. She felt her stomach churning but found that her knife had not pierced his skin, and she found that she was weak from relief at the fact.

"Two."

This was it. This was her last chance. It was now or it was never. Freedom. Home. Fiancés. Brothers. Parents. Responsibility. Growing up. Growing up.

"Three."

Wendy dropped the knife at the last count, her entire form feeling weak. She felt the blood draining from her body, and could only look dazedly into the face of her captor.

Hook disgustedly threw up up his right arm, marching out the door and slamming it behind him.  Wendy curled into a small ball in the center of the bed, trying to stop the tears of defeat and fear from falling. Her eyes slammed shut, and she could hear the sound of Hook pacing back and forth across the room. Would he strike her? Would he bellow at her? She trembled in fright at the possibilities. She didn't know how long had passed until the footsteps had ceased.

Wendy waited for the slam and click of the door that never came. She opened her eyes slowly, turning to her right to view the empty room.

Suddenly he was there, standing at the side of her bed as Wendy suppressed a deep gasp.

"Wendy-" he started, looking down at her darkly. He found himself shocked as she sat up suddenly, her eyes ablaze with furious intensity.

"You are a horrible person!" Wendy cried through her tears, furiously. "I've done nothing wrong to you. All I wanted was to come back to the Neverland for some simple, childhood adventures. You stole me away from all of that, you forced me to live here with you, and through it all you couldn't even attempt to be civil!"

"Wendy," Hook started again, resting on the edge of her spacious bed as he finally found the courage to look at her. "You have to understand that things are difficult for me-"

"You've made it so!" Wendy interrupted, "you've made it unbearable for both of us. If you hadn't kept me here, your shipmates would never have thought less of you, and I could have gone home. Instead you've locked me up here and-"

"Be silent a moment, girl!" Hook hissed, his eyes narrowing. His eyes slipped shut a moment, as if he were attempting to collect a large amount of cluttered thoughts within his mind. Wendy watched the tense features of the Captain slowly relax, before his light blue eyes were open and focused once more. "Why did you come back?"

Wendy looked up to the man, confused. "Pardon?"

"Why did you return, to the Neverland?"

"You're trying to fool me," Wendy said swiftly, not one to be deceived. "Trying to bait me into another one of your games. Well, I won't have it. You have gone too far, Captain Hook."

"I am not attempting to deceive you," Hook promised gently. "You have my word. On my honor as a pirate. I am simply curious."

Wendy said nothing more as she looked into the pale face of Hook. She searched for any sign of falsehood, or sick bemusement, and saw neither. All that remained was the almost unnerving tranquility and cold calculation of any sea captain.

"You wish to know why I returned?" Wendy almost scoffed, "I have told you countless times! I did not wish to grow up."

"There is nothing more to it?" Hook challenged. "No second part to this?"

"I haven't the faintest as to what you wish me to answer," Wendy countered, feeling backed into some invisible corner at Hook's words. "You seem intent on making my motives out to be fraudulent."

"You have me all wrong," Hook replied with ease. "I simply believe there to be another lure that brought you back to this cursed place."

Wendy could not for the life of her decide what the captain was going on about. And if she hadn't looked into his face she would have remained puzzled. But as Hook looked angrily out the cabin window of her room, into the cheeriness of the evening, Wendy saw it. The first flicker of jealousy. It was very subtle. Wendy could see it however, licking at the edges of the Captain's eyes. Emerald green and fiercely sharp looking.

Wendy had often heard her mother comment on 'the little green monster' that seemed to creep into people when jealous. The kindest sweetest people could be afflicted! Wendy had simply put it together that this little green monster simply took a person over, starting with the eyes.

"Was it Pan?" Hook pffered quietly. his eyes boring into her own. Wendy saw the jagged rim of green around his eyes darkening, threatening to take away that lovely shade of blue altogether. He drew nearer to her, the bed creaking slightly under his weight.

"If I were to answer that Peter was indeed the reason I returned, would this anger you?" Wendy asked softly of him, needing to hear his answer. Almost a challenge.

"So it was Pan," Hook replied almost triumphantly, his head shaking slightly. "I knew as much. There are some things that girls never do tire of, and that is of romance. And first romances are the most potent of all."

"I'm afraid you are incorrect," Wendy replied as dignified as possible under the circumstances. "Peter was not the reason I returned. I returned of my own desire to leave the grown up world behind me. To return somewhere that I never really left completely. To a place where there were those who loved me for what I was, and not what I was about to become."

Suddenly, hot tears were slipping down Wendy's cheeks, and she couldn't stop them if she tried. They had come without warning, and in turn taken her completely over. The element of surprise. Her body was starting to hiccup, and before she could stop herself, she'd buried her face in Hook's chest. She waited for him to recoil at this sentiment, or growl at her, push her off and mock her. But he did not.

Moments went by, several in fact, with Wendy sobbing, until suddenly a soft and tentative hand made its way onto Wendy's shaking back. It stayed there a moment, before journeying downward and upward in a soft rubbing motion that reminded Wendy of her mother's caress when she'd been ill with a fever. It was strange to think of Hook being kind to anyone. Captain Hook, feared captain and man of all of Neverland, was sitting on his bed with a young victim in his arms, and all he did was comfort her!

"I wish to have you all to myself," Hook suddenly whispered softly against her forehead. "Body, heart and soul. I do not wish to share, especially with the likes of Pan."

Wendy felt all her sudden sentiment towards the Captain withering in that moment, feeling as if he saw her as a mere token of triumph. A spoiled boy who did not wish to share his toys. She was not a toy to be discarded after boredom took over. She pushed away from him, her eyes now on the floor. His arms slid away almost like that of a cascading waterfall.

"Leave me," Wendy whispered brokenly, surprised when the Captain did as she asked of him with no question. Almost instantly he had stood, bidding her a gentle goodnight. When Wendy heard the door shut and lock she allowed herself to slip back onto the soft bed.

And now with things even more complicated than ever, Wendy fell into a dreamless and troubled sleep.


	13. What kind of adventure?

Back in the Jungle of the Neverland, a large group of Lost Boy's were huddled around a large imaginary campfire. Even thought it was the middle of the morning, the boy's had decided on telling some frightfully scary stories for entertainment. John had been in the middle of a ripping good tale involving a ghostly sea Captain when a large caw sounded from above them. Several bright eyes looked up to see their beloved leader sailing down from the trees, smiling widely and gnashing his small, pearly teeth.

"I have wonderful news!" Peter cried as he landed with a happy thud, rushing over to the jubilant crew. "We are going to rescue Wendy today!"

Shrill cries of excitement filled the camp, and as several of the boys began to whoop and dance around in anticipation of what was to come, it was John who stood up and shot a disapproving glance.

"I thought you were going to listen to me," spat out the older boy, coming before Peter. Peter could only look to the older boy rather confused. You see, since Peter was a young boy, he was prone to bouts of forgetfulness. Surely you have a younger brother, or know of someone young who forgets something almost the instant you tell it to them? Well, so is the case of Peter. He tries his hardest to recall what is told to him, but he can only do so much. His mind is filled with so many fun and happy things that it's only a matter of time before something slips out and is forgotten, to make room for even more exciting things.

He'd remembered John's words for what was considered a long time for him. But, after flying this morning and seeing the Jolly Roger in the dawn's first light, he'd remembered his dear Wendy, and of her imprisonment. This had pushed out all warning's John had given him prior and filled him with great anticipation of a fight against Hook.

"What did you tell me?"

"I told you that we were to form allegiance with Tiger Lily's tribe," John said irritated, for he was almost a grown up and rarely forgot what he was told. "Then when we are sure to have enough warriors, we will overtake the Jolly Roger."

The other boy's looked rather impressed with this idea, and John couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit proud of himself. He smiled smugly to Peter, who now had a scowl upon his youthful face.

"It's taking too long!" Peter pouted, sifting his feet in the dirt and crossing his arms. "I want to rescue Wendy now! I want to hear another of her stories!"

"Oh, so do I!" chimed in Nibs, for he too missed Wendy. She was an awfully good mother. All the other boys -save for Michael- began cheering excitedly for Peter's plan.

"You cannot do it Peter," John responded angrily. "If Hook is too powerful he will kill us all, and then he will kill Wendy."

"He will not!" Peter countered happily, floating slightly. "I am too quick for old Hook!"

"He has her hidden," John replied testily. "He will hide her for good in the ship. You shall never find her. No, Peter. You will not endanger her life. This is the final word on the matter."

Peter could only look to John angrily, feeling as if he were being talked to... by a grown up! As if John were his father! Well, he was having no part in that nonsense!

"She's my friend!" Peter shouted angrily, his face reddening.

"She's my sister!"

"I will not sit around here waiting any longer!" Peter shouted, his once child like face contorting into something horrid. And suddenly, he let out a wild scream of fury. His eyes squeezed shut, and as he screamed his face morphed slightly, causing the boy's to look upon him with horror. The trees shook dangerously and the wind howled. Suddenly the screaming stopped, and Peter's ragged breathing was all that could be heard in the forest.

When he'd regained his breath moments later, Peter could see the semicircle around him, looking to him intently.

"What?" Peter challenged, feeling slightly odd. John and Michael exchanged worried looks, while Curly simply stared unmoving. The twins whispered to themselves, and it was Tootles who first found his voice.

"Peter..." Tootles said, his face suddenly pale. "You look different."

"Different?" Peter asked, and for the first time felt worry. "What do you mean, different?"

"Peter," Nibs offered in shocked awe. "You look...older."

*********

Since Wendy was such a forgiving person, much like her own dearly missed mother, by morning her tears and anger towards the Captain had quite dulled in ferocity. She knew the type of man he was; no matter how much she loathed it. She also knew that the Captain had not wished for her to see such atrocities those nights before. But, as before, Wendy could not fully trust him. She doubted she would ever be able to fully trust him again.

This was for the best however, she decided, as forming such bonds with her captor was not a wise decision. If she hoped to be released from her gilded cage, she would have to be in completely control of her mind and feelings. She needed no ties to bar her. Hook did not come to her that day for a lesson, and for that Wendy was thankful. She had the entire day to herself, and since Hook now permitted slim novels, she had something to read and pass the time with.

Every now and again she would look out the cabin window to see the remarkably blue waters below her, almost beckoning her to inhale their powerful aroma. She wished that she could oblige. There was a bit of a storm in the afternoon, but it cleared within a few hours. By evening Wendy heard a knock upon her door, and it was Smee, holding another package for her, along with her supper.

Wendy took it gratefully, saddened that there was no small talk between them other than Smee's pointed order of: " _The Captain will be here to fetch you within the hour_." Wendy had scrambled to get ready, finding (thankfully) that this gown was much more modest in color and cut.

A royal blue color that had sleeves and a most beautiful designed broach on the front. She did think it strange however, that she'd been given her dinner to eat alone, when Hook was to see her shortly. She ate her meal quickly, feeling her stomach flipping a bit. Hook was a dangerously cunning man. And the thought of death did quickly come to surface in her mind. What if this had all been a sort of last meal for her?

What if this was the very dress that she would be found dead in? She found it quite impossible to swallow then. Before Wendy could think of any means of delaying her conceived death, there was a knock upon her door. She looked daringly to the door a moment in fear before covering her face in her hands. She breathed deeply before standing. If she was going to die, Wendy felt that she would meet her fate in a most proud and noble manner. Just as she had been forced to walk the plank so many years ago, and had done so in such a calm manner, she would do now.

"Come in," she said bravely, trying to stop the fear from turning her legs to nothing. She balanced on the edge of the bed frame, allowing it to aid in holding her up. She felt her stomach tighten as Hook walked in, looking to her with appreciate eyes. He walked slowly over to her, allowing his eyes and smile to ease her into submission before he took one shaking hand, and kissed the knuckles lightly.

"Good evening," Hook said charismatically. "You look devastatingly beautiful."

Wendy would have been flattered at the sentiment, or even blushed had she been in good humor. But she was still reeling at the fact that this may be her last night alive. Instead she was pale, and trying to keep her wits about her.

"Thank you," she replied primly. Hook sensed something amiss with the girl and sighed darkly. He could only assume that she was still cross with him about the night before.

"Wendy..." he started slowly, trying to find the right words."About-"

"Please," Wendy said suddenly, closing her eyes tightly, trembling all over. "If you are going to kill me, please have the decency to do it quickly."

Hook stared at Wendy a long while, with a truly confused look upon his handsome features. He looked long and hard at the trembling girl before him, and allowed one dark eyebrow to rise slightly. "Kill you?"

"Yes, kill me," Wendy said with a treble in her voice. "Please. As I have been good company to you for these passing weeks, please make it as painless as you can, I beg of you. I don't believe I could stand the sight of my own blood."

Wendy's eyes remained shut as she heard the shallow breathing of the Captain in front of her. He was drawing nearer she could tell, by his scent and the feel of his breath against her forehead. Wendy gasped as a warm hand came to cup her cheek, for fear that the claw would soon accompany it. She tensed a moment, waiting for the inevitable slash, and feeling of remorse at Hook's lack of decency.

She was indeed wary when she all at once felt the distinct feel of his thumb gently caressing her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly, only to view two kind blue eyes upon her face.

"Wendy," Hook breathed in an almost kindly fashion. "I shall not kill you."

"Tonight," Wendy whispered dimly, feeling her heart thudding sickly in her stomach.

"Ever," was the soft reply.

Wendy let her eyes rise to view Hook's entire face, and was surprised to see a look of compassion crossing his features. He would never admit it of course, but Hook could pity and feel remorse. Wendy felt her eyes fluttering shut then, at the sudden warmth that had surrounded her body, and the sensation that Hook's lips would soon be pressed against her own. She was surprised when she felt the warm hand of his fall from her cheek as he raptly stepped from her.

You see it was entirely too difficult trying to fight these urges Hook was beginning to be overcome with when around Wendy. They had started out as playful thoughts and wishes, which had now matured into swirling sensations in his abdomen that made him want to ravish her. But he was a gentleman, and as such, he would never act upon such impulses.

He stood before the window, viewing as Wendy opened her eyes to view his departure. It was a few moments before he found the strength to look at her in a polite fashion.

"I forgive you," Wendy suddenly remarked, rather clumsily in the quiet cabin.

Hook looked back to her, finding a small smile crawling across his mouth as he nodded in appreciation at her words. Sometimes she was a truly sweet young woman. Wendy smiled tentatively back, finding herself rather awkward in the moment. And while she had ardently meant what she said, Hook still felt that nagging guilt at having had Wendy see the carnage and for being so rude to her the night before. She was a delicate thing at times and he had just the idea to have her gain trust in him once more. He found that tonight was a most perfect opportunity.

"I've decided we shall have a moonlit stroll on deck, tonight," Hook said gallantly, giving Wendy his best smile as he did so. She returned it with vigor, coming over to him quickly her hands crossed across her heart in almost rapture.

"Do you mean it?"

"I do indeed," smiled Hook, and grasping a large cloak he handed it to Wendy. Wendy stared at it a moment, and then with a gulp of anticipation, took it from him, and pulled it over her shoulders.

"I'm ready."

It was moments later when Wendy and Hook walked up on the deck of the Jolly Roger. The night was the richest of blue blacks, and so many stars littered the sky, the entire island was illuminated. Wendy's arm was upon Hook's, and she looked warily at those they passed. Wendy tried to hold her head high amongst the whispers that surrounded she and the sea Captain. Hook seemed unfazed however, and Wendy was ashamed at the realization that he was undoubtedly glad to have rumors of her lack of propriety now showcased.

"Am I mere entertainment to your crew?" Wendy whispered into the Captain's direction, finding her anger growing at the pointed stares. "I believed this walk to be a private affair."

Hook, only now realizing that they were being watched, gave an icy glare to the pirates who had suddenly gone rigid in fear. His good hand suddenly dropped to his pocket, where he withdrew and brandished a large revolver.

"Get out of here you mongrels!" Hook bellowed, raising his revolver dangerously, preparing the trigger with a crisp click. It was only seconds before the deck was completely empty, and Wendy and Hook were again alone.

"Is this more to your liking, my dear?" Hook purred, taking the girl's arm once more in his own. He liked the feel of her so close to him, although he'd never admit it, even under the harshest of torture.

"Yes," Wendy muttered, half lying. While she did indeed appreciate that the rest of the filthy pirates were gone, she was always nervous when it came to being alone with the volatile Hook. There was an awkward moment of silence that suddenly settled, one which Wendy felt she must fill, for it seemed the right thing to do at the time and she had been taught as such.

"Thank you so much for the beautiful clothes," Wendy suddenly whispered. "And my tutoring."

"You are more than welcome," Hook said rather surprised. Their relationship had been a strange one so far. First she was his captive, then she was his burden, and now...she was something different. It was hard to place. But the dynamic had changed, and he felt it. Worser still, he liked it. At this realization, Hook grew uneasy. He had to remember why he had kept her in the first place.

Power, advantage.

He must remember the plan. Remember to keep Wendy not as his companion but as something to hold over the ever annoying Peter Pan. Ah yes, Pan. Stupid, foolish boy hadn't even made an attempt to rescue his beloved childhood mate. Surely too busy, off playing his pipes, or rescuing those in need to even recall a cherished friend from so long ago. Well, Hook mused he'd gotten the better of that little cretin.

But now the question remained, if Pan was almost completely out of the equation...why did he still desperately want to keep the girl? Was he that starved for intellectual company? Was he that alone? Or was it something else entirely? Something he'd thought was lost along with his youth?

"Do you enjoy the sea air?" Hook suddenly ventured, walking to the edge of the ship with Wendy in tow. He didn't wish to belabor thoughts of why he was keeping Wendy. It wouldn't do either of them any good.

"I do...for a spell," Wendy said with her eyes scanning the frothy waters, suddenly bringing a hand to her mouth.

"Do you grow ill?" Hook said, a bit warily. He viewed the girl's pallor, and was relieved to see it wasn't close to being a shade of green. Instead her eyes were wide, and her lips parted.

"No," Wendy responded quickly, "I'm afraid I'm just quite overcome by the beauty of the night."

And this was unmistakably true. For should anyone stand at the edge of the Jolly Roger, on a night such as this in the heart of Neverland, they would undoubtedly be in awe of the night's beauty. It wasn't simply for the faeries that whipped around the ship playfully, trying to tease the irritable pirates, with their golden sparkles trailing after them. But that combined with the mermaids that silhouetted against the large pale blue moon, crying their hauntingly beautiful songs, and the way the night so beautifully melted into the now placid sea that was so utterly entrancing.

Wendy allowed herself to close her eyes a moment, simply savoring the comforting motion of the ship, and the feel of the warm breeze caressing her cheek. She smiled softly, not seeing the way Hook gazed at her a moment before dragging his eyes back to the silvery moon before them.

"It is a truly lovely evening." Hook agreed standing suddenly and letting the girl's arm drop from his own. She looked up startled, to see Hook looking rather pointedly into the sea. Wendy felt there was something more in his words, and she too looked into the sea. The calm, almost serene nature of it.

The way everything seemed so unnervingly peaceful. It was then, that a suddenly heartbroken Wendy looked to the Captain.

"I wish to retire now."

"So soon?" Hook asked surprised, looking to her speculatively. He felt rather let down, as if he'd disappointed the girl somehow. He'd expected her to be much happier than she was.

"Yes, please," Wendy said shallowly, trying in vain to hide the tears that threatened to fall. "Please take me back to my lodgings."

"As you wish," Hook replied, taking her arm once more and walking back to her room. They walked slowly back, with Hook viewing the stony face of Wendy as they did so. Had he done something cruel without knowing it? Had he said or done something to have her be so unnaturally cold? She seemed so very stiff then, her eyes piercing ahead of them.

"This is a night to be cherished," Hook whispered to himself, remembering how he found Wendy's dark hair to be utterly bewitching in the twinkling darkness of the night sky. He wasn't sure what made him say it then, but he found he had nothing else to comment on. The arrived at the door to her cabin rather quickly, much to Hook's dismay. He found the strength to glance at her casually out the corner of his eye, only to observe as a shimmering teardrop slid down Wendy's downcast face. "Miss Darling?"

"They have forgotten me," Wendy suddenly choked out, her tears hot, slipping down her pinking cheeks. She was trying to be composed, she did so hate to cry in front of people. Hook was momentarily stunned, not only at the girl's proclamation, but at the fact that he hadn't a clue as to what she was talking about. Nonetheless, Hook quickly opened the door to Wendy's cabin, softly leading her into it and locking the door behind them.

He didn't wish to have Wendy's problems showcased for the entire crew to hear. In the small cabin, the girl went to the window, her face still wet with tears, clumping her eyelashes together, giving her an even more innocent look. It was then, with her eyes on the sea that Hook realized she was talking about Pan and the rest of those vile children that followed him so blindly.

"I was-s such a good mother to them all," Wendy continued suddenly, her head sinking into her chest as she continued to sob jerkily. "And they've forgotten about me so-o easily. They've not come for me... they've not even come near! It's as if I never e-even existed!"

She turned to the Captain then, not even surprised to see him so close to her. She didn't mind the close proximity, or the fact that she could practically feel the heat radiating from his body. She merely looked up to his light eyes, finding that they were blurred through her own tears.

"Am I so easy to forget?"

Before Wendy could utter another word she felt the warm palm of Hook against her burning cheek. She could not find the strength to pull away, and found that she did not wish to. And soon, so very soon, Hook's warm lips were upon her forehead, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth.

"Wendy," Hook said hoarsely, covering her face in his gentle kisses. "I would never forget you."

Wendy felt her heart hammering delightfully at Hook's husky words, and so caught up in the moment of sadness and elation all at once; she sought comfort in the Captain's warm lips. She hadn't expected to, but with the calming sensation it brought, she felt herself melting into the body and mouth of her once believed enemy. Her hands which had at first been politely kept at her side now slipped up the lapels of Hook's coat.

It was a daring move on her part, but at the way the Captain's kisses deepened Wendy had a feeling he didn't mind in the least. Slowly Hook's hand slipped to the back of her dress without her noticing it. She was so intoxicated with the feel of his mouth upon her own, and the tongue that sought to taste her, that she was weak all over. She'd never kissed a man; she'd never felt this thrumming sensation that made her want him closer.

Hook said nothing as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall into a pool at their feet. Wendy's eyes were still closed tightly, and she didn't even notice as this happened. Her hands were her eyes now, and in an almost knowing fashion, they slipped the white, high collared shirt of Hook off his shoulders, without his obvious notice, for his hand was busy itself.

Slowly as they kissed, they made their way to Wendy's bed. It was such a natural sensation that Wendy barely noticed as they toppled into the soft warmth of the pillows and blankets. Her heart was hammering too loudly, her body pulsating all over as Hook's hand strayed from her side. Slowly that masterful hand made it's way to Wendy's stomach, slipping soundlessly over the fabric, setting off a line of fire where is passed.

Wendy moaned at the sensation his hand made, so blissfully that the Captain himself felt slightly out of control. He was halfway atop of her, not that either truly noticed, and his kisses hadn't stopped. His mouth was upon her neck now, sucking and nibbling at her as her head leaned back. His mouth was so sweet and soft, and it trailed down her neck and collar as if searching for the x that marked the unseen treasure.

But as his caressing mouth began its journey downward from her collar, Wendy felt the first pang of panic hit her. This was accompanied with a sudden notice of Hook's claw just beside her head. Obviously he'd subconsciously moved it out of the way; for fear that he may harm her. But the sight of that glinting weapon so close to her face caused Wendy to gasp, so loudly that Hook's entrancing eyes flew open.

Viewing the look of horror that crossed her face as she viewed his deformity, Hook whirled off of her, and prepared to leave the bed. Wendy sat up as he moved from atop of her, and was about to explain herself when she viewed a small tattoo upon Hook's upper arm. If it hadn't been so out of place and yet familiar, she never would have been so intrigued by it. "Stop!" she panted, grasping Hook by the shoulder the best that she could. She ignored the way he pulled from her several times before finally looking to her angrily.

"What?" he growled frustrated and humiliated all at once. He didn't want to stay longer than needed; at this point he wanted nothing than to make the horrid girl walk the plank! She had been horrified at him; she had been disgusted at the mere sight of him.

"What is this?" Wendy whispered softly, feeling bold as she let her forefinger come to rest on the warm skin of Hook's upper arm. Below her finger lay a large and familiar tattoo of a crest she knew of well.

"Why, my uncle went to school there!" Wendy said in outright shock, her eyes searching the Captains, and her hand still upon his muscled arm. "You were a student of Eton College?"

Hook's face blanched at this and he pulled back from her, covering his arm the best he could, pulling on his shirt quickly, making sure his eyes did not trail to where she sat. Wendy watched as the pale blue eyes of her captor went into a frenzy of panic before clouding in doubt. It was right then; Wendy knew that there was a past to James Hook, a past that he desperately wanted hidden.

"I don't exactly remember." Hook said almost dazed, "it comes and goes."

"Don't lie." Wendy urged, her eyes twinkling in curiosity. "Please, tell me the truth."

The two of them looked to one another, their eyes locked as they both stood their ground. They were both flushed, and Wendy's lips were reddened and swelling from the kisses Hook had taken from her moments beforehand.

"Yes," Hook finally relented firmly. "I attended Eton. It was the finest school in all of London, and my parents were insistent that I graduate from there, just as my father had, and his father before that. It was tradition for the men in my family, and they do bear the same crest upon their shoulder."

"Go on," said Wendy encouragingly, almost in awe at the fact that she was uncovering the secret to Hook's past. It was if he was transforming right before her, turning into a real flesh and blood man instead of the childhood nemesis she told stories of.

"I graduated with highest honors, and was offered many teaching positions. But I didn't wish to end up as some aged old professor that my peers and I had before taken great joy in mocking. I could not," at this Hook's eyes searched Wendy's. "You see, I did not wish to grow up for good."

Wendy felt her heart stilling as he spoke, for she knew exactly how he felt. She too felt the suffocation of society forcing her to do so, and as Hook's eyes clouded with misgivings, Wendy felt all at once, a true connection with him.

"But I had no real choice in the matter at the end," Hook finally finished, looking to Wendy quickly. "For all my boyhood years, I had wished to be a great composer or a famous explorer."

At this Hook's eyes grew almost misty. "But when I told my parents of my desires, they were outraged, claiming that it was a most foolish wish. They said I was squandering my life, betraying them and all their generosity. I did not dare disappoint them, and so I took a position, as an English professor."

"Oh my," Wendy said, feeling so very aware of everything all of a sudden. It made so much sense, the tutoring, the polished way he spoke and had such talent for poetry, the way that he commanded the attention of everyone he addressed. Wendy saw that Hook's face was slightly grimacing as she gaped up at him, and she feared that he might begin to cry. She wouldn't know what to do if he cried. But in the end he did not. It would take more than a story to make Hook cry.

"I never forgave them," Hook finished somberly, his face growing cold. "And I never shall. And so one night, I wished for someone to take me away. For somewhere I could go and find adventures. And my calls were eventually answered."

At this point, they lapsed into silence, neither one finding the courage to speak next. It was a heavy atmosphere, and as if one memory of Neverland had gone and grown up like everything else. It was a saddening, yet confusing feeling.

"By Peter?" Wendy finally uttered in quiet awe.

Hook's once clear and open eyes turned cloudy and darkened in color, and Wendy knew that there was only so much Hook would tell her.. Wendy saw the wild way his light eyes looked around the cabin, desperate to leave her, and Wendy felt a bubble of desperation filling her. She stood quickly, coming from the side of the bed to where he stood with his back to her, scanning the room for his jacket.

He felt himself tense as her trembling hand lay upon his arm Before either party could offer a comforting word, a snap of lightning sounded from above. Their eyes darted to the cabin window, and both were shocked to see a thin jagged bolt of lightening crack through the sky.

"A storm," Hook growled as his eyes scanned the horizon. "This is worrisome, indeed."

A rumbling thunder sounded then, and Wendy could hear the thudding of boots on deck, and the lurid shouts of worried pirates. Wendy could not remember ever being on the Jolly Roger during a storm, and she felt her stomach quaking in trepidation. She looked to the face of Hook, seeing the piercing gaze locked on the sea's tumultuous waves, at the trees on the shore that leaned dangerously, their leaves billowing almost majestically. It was then that Wendy recalled who did at times seem to control the weather.

"Peter," Wendy whispered as she viewed the waves of the sea turning a dark and angry shade. Before she could stop herself, a small smile crossed her features. Hook shot her a stormy look before grasping his decorative cloak.

"Stay here," he ordered sharply, pulling it on hurriedly. "I shall return within the hour."

"You're leaving me locked in here? Alone?" Wendy cried in dull horror as she made her way tentatively over to the distracted Captain.

"Trust me," Hook interrupted, coming over to her and grasping her tightly. His eyes locked with her own, and she found her voice was quite lost. "I haven't time to coddle you now, Wendy. I've got a ship filled with morons on deck that need my guidance. You're a grown woman, you can take care of yourself can't you?"

Wendy looked up to him, seeing the frenzy of panic, trust and hope all at once in the older man's eyes. Almost hesitantly Wendy mutely nodded, her eyes still wide, the Captain's grip still tightly on her shoulders.

"I know you can," Hook reaffirmed almost proudly, pulling her into a tight embrace. This lasted in a time that was far too brief, and Wendy felt as if she was internally being wrenched apart as the Captain pulled from her. He rushed to the cabin door, as Wendy willed herself not to fall apart. As the door slammed, the ship began to rock dangerously. Wendy gasped deeply, falling to the floor at the harsh sensation.

"Oh Peter," Wendy murmured worriedly to herself.

Obviously Peter was in a foul mood tonight, and she was undoubtedly the cause of his fury. Oh, what a mistake returning had been! Still on the ground, she looked to the large bed she slept on every night, and without another thought in her head, Wendy crawled under the bed's creaking confines. She could only see a bit of the floor as she lay upon her stomach, calming herself as she lay. She imagined Hook on the deck of the ship, and how brave he would be in the face of such peril. Commanding, and in control. He wouldn't let a little rain and thunder worry him. He was the fearless Captain, the only one the Sea-Cook feared.

And yet, in the smallest measure, Wendy worried for him, for his safety. She found herself wishing it were the moments before; of she in the Captain's strong embrace. Feeling for the first time, truly safe. Almost at home in a foreign place. Very quickly though Wendy realized she was being led astray once more by the Captain's charms.

And so she covered her head with her hands, willing Peter's temper to cool.


	14. Not young enough to know everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely messages! They've been such a delight to read and I LOVE them!! Please keep them coming!!! I promise all who comment- I will reply to you!

"Peter!" John cried furiously, grabbing the squirming boy tightly within his arms. He felt the young bones itching to be free, to burst free from the older boy's grasp and soar into the sky he was born to control. "You must stop, Peter! Calm yourself!"

"Let me go!" Peter seethed back, his face morphing into something ugly and foreign.His pearly teeth ground together, and John screeched as those once innocent teeth dug into his forearm.

"Michael! Grab him!" John released Peter jerkily, gripping his arm and howling in fresh pain. He couldn't remember the last time he felt real pain in this Never land.

"I've got him." Michael held the struggling Peter tightly, tears threatening to fall. The rest of the Lost Boys looked on in dull shock and John observed it must be a highly hard thing to do, to turn against one's former hero and he felt ill about forcing this upon them all. But he could not risk his sister's life again.

"Tie his wrists," he whispered shakily, his voice threatening to crack. "And his feet. Bind them tightly and then tie him to the large tree over there. We shall take turns watching him. He cannot escape."

The Lost Boys shot uneasy looks at one another, and all at once John felt his fury building at the thought of being disobeyed. He whirled back towards them, his face turning a horrifying shade of deep purple.

"I said tie him!"

All at once the boy's started, and rushed over to the squirming Peter. They could not meet his eyes as several held him to the ground. Two held his wrists and legs as they were bound tightly, in a fashion of real vines and discarded rope. Not the rope of imagination.

"COWARDS!" shouted Peter furiously, his lithe body still shaking and writhing upon the dirt ground. "All of you! COWARDS! I rescued you all from this form of torment! I saved you all from grown ups and look what you've done! You've brought one right to you. To order you about! IDIOTS!"

He prepared to sail into the air, and may have made it were it not for the astute and quick reflexes of Tootles. He grasped the long vines in his dusty hands and gripped it tightly, drawing the shouting and bleary eyed Peter to the ground.

"Well done, Tootles," John said with a small nod in his general direction. And for once Tootles did not enjoy his recognition. A small circle surrounded Peter then, who sat cross legged, with his head hanging low and a strange shaking taking over his body.

"He's crying," one voice finally whispered as a single teardrop slipped to the dirt floor.

"I DO NOT CRY!" Peter screamed, shaking all at once and looking with fury back at John who kneel just out of the boy's reach.

"Peter," John said darkly looking to the boy. "You must have control of your emotions. If you do not, Wendy is in even more peril than before. You know that your moods have the ability to control the weather...you must force yourself to be more peaceful."

"She may die for all I care now," Peter replied evenly. "You have made sure of that, Mr. Darling. Grown up. I will never help you now. Wendy shall perish before I come to her aid now."

"Peter," Michael insisted from behind him. "You can't mean that."

"But I do," said Peter in a chillingly calm voice. His light eyes had grown quite dulled, and he turned with the most sinister of grins as he looked over to Michael. "I mean it completely."

***

 

"Oh Peter," Wendy moaned to herself under the bed, turning a light shade of grey.

The boat had been rocking madly for at least an hour since the Captain had left, and Wendy had grown more sea sick with every passing moment. She lay her head against the cool planks of the floor, closing her eyes and attempting to steady her mind. Her fingers gripped the wood, scraping as she was shifted as large wave upon wave crashed against the Jolly Roger. Time passed. She didn't know how much time had passed since the last wave.

It suddenly felt uneasily still on the floor of the room. They were unmoving. She lay under the bed for this entire time, praying for the Captain's speedy return. She had been praying for such for what seemed like an eternity. But suddenly, as if all prayers had been answered, the door to her room flew open and in stumbled the Captain. Looking completely disheveled, his shirt torn and sullied, he shut the door to the room behind him, looking round confused.

"Wendy?" "Captain," Wendy cried out, crawling from under her bed and observing how beaten and tired he looked. "Oh my goodness...what happened?"

He looked to the young girl, so concerned and smiled ever so slightly. She smiled gently up at him, her eyes questioning and compassionate. She wore the dress he had left her in, and he realized she had been hiding under the bed the entire time. She shivered slightly. Alone in this cold, foreboding room.

"Come to me, Wendy." He held out a lean, pale hand. Wendy felt her stomach churning as she looked into his steady gaze, and yet she drew towards him feeling not frightened, but entranced. She placed her hand upon his, and steeled herself against the cool touch of skin and rain. All at once he had turned, taking her with him out the door of her room. Wendy felt her heart racing, and it did not slow its beat until they stood outside his Captain's quarters.

"There is a fireplace within," he explained, after seeing her questioning eyes. He viewed her nod, and stepped aside for her to step in before him.

"Oh my," Wendy commented as they stepped in, seeing the alterations of the previously dull room. Hook shrugged off his overcoat, letting it drop onto the wood floor with a squishing sound. He threw several nearby logs into the hearth, lightly it with one of his matches.

"It will only take a moment to warm up," Hook murmured, watching as she hugged herself tightly, looking around the quarters with newfound interest.

He'd had a new, larger bed moved into his new quarters. Exquisitely carved, with the most beautiful crimson sheets with gold trim. Better yet were the beautifully sown white pillows with gold embroidery laying atop it. The Captain's desk sat near the darkened window, an array of papers upon it, the quill perched in it's inkwell smartly, next to his seal and pieces of dark red wax.

Two large and comfortable looking chairs sat before the fire, large and beautiful carved and embroidered with the most intriguing of designs. In the middle sat a large bottle of wine, and two glasses. Everything was so sumptuous looking. Wendy watched Hook light several lanterns and candles, giving the room a most cheery glow. Wendy was still gazing at the transformed room when a large blanket draped over her shoulders. She started a bit, calming when she felt the Captain's warm hand on her shoulder through the fabric.

"Sit before the fire, Wendy," Hook insisted, giving her the lightest of pushes in the direction of the hearth. "You're shivering."

"Me?" Wendy inquired, giving a backward look over her shoulder, not bothering to inform the Captain that she was not shivering from the cold at all, but from his touch. "What about yourself? You've been on deck for hours!"

"Indeed," Hook replied with an easy smile. "But I must change"

"Then will you tell me what happened?"

"Of course."

Wendy nodded, turning and seating herself in one of the large chairs, she snuggled into the warmth gratefully, and let her eyes become hypnotized by the dancing, twirling pumpkin colored flames. She knew then that this had developed into something deeper than she had even realized. The feelings she had for the Captain weren't easily dismissed, and she had realized this lying under the bed this evening, praying earnestly for Hook's return.

Not simply to ensure her ongoing safety...no, it was a prayer for her Hook to return to her. To hold her and to love her. Love, Wendy thought with a shake of her head. How terribly foolish of me to fall in love with a man like Hook. He would laugh himself silly if he were to hear such a thing.

No, a man like James Hook does not love. He covets. Moments later the Captain sat in the chair adjacent to her own, dressed in a similar outfit as before. Wendy observed this with mingled interest and slight perplexity.

"Do you not have leisure clothes?" Wendy inquired, confused at his ornate appare.

"I do," replied Hook, 'but a good Captain does not succumb to leisure time."

"Ever?"

"Rarely."

A moment passed, not that there was any clock to indicate so. Wendy watched the flames mirror themselves in the Captain's almost ethereal eyes and she contained a sigh of contentment. Contentment of what one may ask? Wendy could not be entirely certain. It was a mixture, she decided later, of the warmth of the fire, mixed with the strangest realization of relaxation.

"Everything is fine for now," Hook insisted, closing his eyes momentarily and taking away the light picture within his gaze. "The sea has calmed itself, but there is still something amiss. The sea feels unsettled."

"What happened though?" Wendy insisted, probing for details. There was an excitement in her that did not die with age, but more bid its time for such occasions. "Did you have to fend off any sea creatures?"

Hook's eyes opened slightly, and he glanced over at the flushed girl, giving her the most easy of smirks. How excitable she could become in the face of adventure or adversity.

"Oh Wendy," he complained with a lie, "I'm afraid it was maddeningly dull up there. Not a hint of a creature or mad mermaid to speak of. There were only raging winds and men falling overboard and- Oh, you're probably finding all of this impossibly dull."

"Oh no!" Wendy insisted, falling into his invisible grip he had on her. "Tell me what happened, please!"

And so Hook regaled Wendy with tales of his on board adventures that seemed all the better in having now that he had someone to share them with. And with every sound of awe or encouragement, the Captain felt himself growing more and more into the man he thought had been lost within himself these last passing years. Before they knew it, several hours had passed and Wendy was stifling a large yawn. The Captain saw this and smiled, yet felt the greed of wanting her company longer.

"Have a drink," he offered, pouring the lightly colored wine into two separate glasses. He waited for the girl to resist, remembering that she did not seem that keen on wine.

"What is it?" Wendy inquired, not wishing to leave the Captain's company any earlier than she had to. She didn't care that she was being drawn into his mystery and charm, and she most certainly did not want to leave him, especially tonight. Perhaps not ever. All of a sudden, there was a crack of thunder, and the sound of rain being poured upon the ship. Wendy looked to the Captain in fear, only to see him casually sipping his wine.

"Worry not, Miss Darling," he assured her. "The sea is not rocking, and the rain is expected after such a storm. My men are highly prepared for this. Sit back and calm yourself. The drink you hold in your hand is a mixture of berries and dew from the island not even a half a days journey away."

"I should like to visit such a place," Wendy said, draining her glass of the mixture. It tasted delicious, and she found herself wishing that all drinks tasted of such sweet nectar and cream.

"Perhaps you shall someday," said the Captain wistfully, looking into the eyes of a very aware Wendy Darling. She flushed slightly, looking to Hook with a small smile.

"If I didn't know better myself," Wendy said suddenly, later blaming her verbal recklessness on the drink, "I'd think this was a seduction attempt."

She offered a small giggle that died the instant Hook's intense gaze met hers; for his eyes positively smouldered.

"Do you wish to be seduced, Miss Darling?"

"No, sir," Wendy replied quickly, her cheeks flaming pink as her eyes drew back to the drink in her hand.

She internally reprimanded herself for walking into such an obvious trap. Her mouth did run away with her, and at the worst of times it would seem. She felt her cheeks burning, and without as much as a glance in the Captain's direction, Wendy knew that he was about to speak. Or, he would have, had it not been for a sudden banging on the door. Two sets of eyes stared at the door, as the elder of the two rushed over to the door, whipping it open with an animal look in his eyes.

There in the hallowed doorway stood a quivering Smee, looking up to Captain as if he were his last salvation. 

"Smee, what is it?" Hook barked after a moment's silence. Faint calls above deck could be heard, thumps and sickening thuds as well. "Captain, it's the mermaids..." Smee's eyes were glazed, "They're everywhere."

"Mermaids?" Hook chortled, "You've come down here in such a state to inform me of a few mermaids?"

Wendy watched Smee's pale head shake from side to side in a slow, hypnotic trance. And all mirth that had been showcased on the smug Captain's face died as the hollow voice of Smee rang out only once more: "Captain...we're surrounded."


	15. The lust of battle was in his eye...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably one of my favorite chapters. ENJOY! xoxo - UP

Hook suddenly barked orders into Smee's face then, orders that Wendy was deaf to as the realization hit her. They were surrounded by merciless and bewitching mermaids who would just as soon kill her as they would any Captain. But why the attack? Why now?

Oh those mermaids! Cold, horridly mean things that would love nothing more than to see her murdered. Peter was the only soul she'd ever seen them warm up to, and that was still precarious.

Smee rushed off suddenly, slamming the door shakily behind him. Wendy felt her heart hammering madly as she looked into the paling face of Hook. The fact that he looked even mildly worried scared Wendy beyond belief. He wasn't ever to look surprised or taken aback. He was an adult; he was supposed to be in control. He wasn't moving from where he stood, instead he seemed rooted there as if by magic. His arms at his sides, and only his bewitching eyes flicking around the floor before him. He seemed to be calculating, seemed to be thinking.

"Captain?" Wendy whispered darkly, her eyes never leaving his stoic face.

"This is Pan's doing," Hook commented hollowly. "He's gathered his little mer-friends to take down my ship. And we both know why he has done so."

At this Hook's light eyes traced Wendy's face, finally resting on her own widening eyes. "He has not forgotten you." Wendy did not speak, finding that words were entirely fruitless at this point. At once her heart jumped with joy at the thought that Peter of all people had not forgotten her after all. That he instead had been devising her rescue this entire time. But, in the same measure, as she looked into the unfathomable eyes of the Captain, Wendy realized that maybe she did not want to be rescued quite yet. Or...perhaps at all.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud from the opposite side of the boat, sending Wendy tripping into the willing arms of Hook. He grasped her to him tightly, so tightly in fact she thought she felt his own heartbeat in her chest.

"They come for you," Hook whispered into her hair, "But they shall not take you from me."

Wendy's eyes closed a moment, her cheek resting against the Captain's reverberating chest as he spoke. Did he expect her to protest? She couldn't. No. She did not want to leave him. Not yet. There was something in this man she was fated to find. She had been meant to come here. Meant to discover his secrets. But there was a small pull, a longing to see her beloved childhood Peter. A desire to go home into the arms of her loving parents and even horrid Aunt Millicent! A need for the love of a family that Hook was not able to give, should he ever desire to do so.

"I will come back," Wendy said softly, her eyes looking into the Captain's. "You have my word."

"Don't you see that I can't Wendy?" Hook said almost pained, "I must have you all to myself."

"But I will return," Wendy swore, meaning it. "I give you my word."

"I know that you ardently believe that now," Hook murmured, stroking her cheek with a tender finger. "But you will too soon forget me. You will return with Pan and then to your London home. You will have your brother's and parents and fiancée and you will want to stay because it is real. You will realize you have grown up...in the Neverland of all places."

"Stop it," Wendy pleaded urgently, burying her face in the Captain's chest.

"So you see why I cannot give you up willingly," Hook insisted darkly, holding her ever more tightly as he spoke. "To do so would mean to give you up forever, and I cannot do it."

"I am not property," Wendy said with steely resolve, pushing back from his warming grasp, "and if I desire to return to you I shall. I am one of my word."

"I cannot take that risk."

The Captain's once moony eyes were growing icy, his commands expected to be obeyed without questioning.

"If you keep me here, I am forever your prisoner."

"Better here and my prisoner than gone and free."

Wendy felt her eyes brimming with tears.

"I was so foolish," she whispered, looking furiously into Hook's face mere steps away, "I honestly believed your heart to be full of real and tender feelings...I truly believed that I was more than mere gain in your eyes."

"You don't understand," Hook insisted, stopping suddenly his eyes darting to the ceiling as cannons began to go off at a mad velocity. Crashing and screams were heard, and Wendy felt her stomach dropping. Those eyes were upon her again. "I must go."

Without so much as a tip of his hat, the Captain was gone, slamming and locking the door behind him as Wendy resolved to keep her tears from falling.

******

John and Michael walked slowly around the island, talking quietly from one to another. They had been walking for some time, away from the Lost Boys and the still tied Peter back in their little home in the trees.

"You cannot order the boys about like this," Michael was insisting, looking to his older brother in earnest."Peter is the life force of The Neverland. You cannot just tie him up and order him about."

"You aided me," John retaliated anxiously. He too was starting to feel the chill in Neverland, the eerie stillness in the air around them. And for once, he was frightened of his childhood paradise.

"At your insistence and out of sheer panic." Michael was growing irritable at the finger pointing.

"Wendy's life is at stake. I suggest you untie Peter; gather the Lost Boys and we do what we should have done from the very start. Attack the Jolly Roger with all the men we have. Perhaps we can still gain help from Tiger Lily's tribe."

"Truly foolish idea."

"It's all we have. You know Hook, John. Wendy shall not be alive for much longer. To do anything else would be to murder her." John looked into the intense eyes of his younger brother, taken aback at the mere determination and found his resolve breaking. He had felt all this time that as the oldest in this group it was automatically his calling to take charge. But looking at Michael, he knew he had been fool hearty.

"You are right, Michael," John agreed as they turned back towards the camp. Their footsteps grew quicker as they began to realize that there was a mighty uproar in the direction of the camp. Moments later by the hollows of trees the Lost Boys were yelling and flailing about as if they were all seized by some horrible illness. Tootles was the first to come rushing over, panting to John.

"It's Peter," the rosy cheeked boy rasped out quickly, "he's gone!"

"Gone?" John echoed in disbelief, now seeing the Lost Boys gathered around the spot where Peter had been bound. John felt crestfallen as he noticed the strands of thick rope simply upon the ground, seemingly sliced.

"Was no one watching?" John demanded angrily, "did not a soul see a thing?" The boys looked to one another rather shamefully, for they had been in charge of looking after Peter if John and Michael were absent. But, they'd heard tales of new treasure under the waterfall and had been far too excited to wait. Besides, none of them really wanted to wait with the then furious Peter Pan, who hadn't uttered a word to them the entire time they had been with him. Betrayal seemed to be in the air.

"We thought that you were on watch," Nibs admitted rather embarrassedly, placing a grubby hand behind his head.

"Well this is a fine kettle of fish," Michael muttered angrily under his breath. Michael shook his head frustrated, and then with a voice dripping with absolute sorrow, that can only come from a brother or sister, he uttered his dear sister's name and angrily rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve.

John had said little during this spectacle, and now walked over to where the rope still lay, and with a heavy heart suddenly bent down, his fingertip tracing the rope a moment before he stood in alignment, adjusting his spectacles as he looked through them at his fingertip.

"What is it?" Michael had taken note of his brother scrutinizing his fingertip and drew over quickly, seeing that familiar look of realization upon his brothers' face.

"Fairy dust."

******

Wendy stood in that very spot for what seemed like hours. The sounds had diminished quite a bit upstairs, but she was hard pressed to move an inch. She felt rooted to the spot, but out of fear or anger she couldn't quite place. Suddenly, as if a large thundercloud had descended solely over the Jolly Roger, the light in Wendy's room seemed to diminish quite noticeably. In a sudden flash she felt fear suddenly creeping up her spine and she turned slowly, her heart thumping madly as she shifted.

There, blocking the light was a large, furious looking mermaid outside her small cabin window, clutching the edge of the said window with inhuman strength. Wendy had never truly been at the end of a mermaid attack. She'd enjoyed watching them once; envying the lofty way they sunbathed and the grace they exhibited when skimming through the watery depths of the lagoon.

But now, the cruel looking mermaid smiled maliciously, showing her pointed incisors in a cruel smile, her large black eyes then glittering with malice. Her hair was a dark ebony, and glossy from the water, her webbed fingers long and bony with sharp nails on each, and her face paler than humanly thought possible. Wendy was almost transfixed at the sight of a mermaid this close even if it was through glass.

It wasn't a traditional beauty this creature possessed, but more an ethereal kind of majesty that compelled Wendy to look closer even through her fear. Of course, her lack of action was a poor decision in the end, and before she could scream or even move, a thick clammy arm had crashed through the cabin window.

Wendy screamed, knowing that to rush to the door would be pointless, it was locked. Her eyes dragged around the room desperate to see anything that may help her. There was nothing in the room to defend herself with. The Captain had long ago removed everything that could be seen as a weapon. Wendy forced herself to turn to that cabin window, and nearly fainted at the image of the furious looking mermaid slowly climbing through. "

Wennnnnnnnnnndy," the shrill voice rasped. Wendy felt her legs trembling in fright.

How did it know her name? What was she to do? Then, most suddenly, the creature leapt a long arm out, and grasped our heroine by the ankle. Wendy shrieked as she felt that damp grip around her ankle, colder than anything alive, and she squirmed, desperate to be freed. She fell, immediately horrified as she realized the mermaid was attempting to drag her out the cabin window, into the frothy waves below.

"NO!" Wendy shrieked, her fingers valiantly trying to dig into the wood planks below her. Her legs kicked out madly and with one free hand she attempted to punch or slap the cold hand gripped around her ankle. Do not worry gentle readers; Wendy is a forever resourceful girl and not one to give up easily. She would not surrender to the mermaid so easily. She suddenly realized that the mermaid's hand would be easier to escape, were she less panicked.

She stilled a moment, lulling the mermaid into thinking she'd submitted. The mermaid hissed happily to herself. Then, with sudden determination Wendy slipped through the slimy hand of her would be captor and began shrieking, praying that anyone would hear her, even those blasted mates of the Captain's on deck. The door to her room suddenly smashed open, sending wood all around. The mermaid's hissing stopped and still on the floor, Wendy viewed as two familiar boots entered the room.

"Oh, Captain!" Wendy sprang up from the cold floor, and saw the look of pure anger in the Captain's eyes directed at the creature halfway through the cabin window. With tears of relief streaming down her cheeks, she rushed to the side of Hook, shaking even as a steady arm came around her.

"Did she harm you?" Hook inquired stiffly, his eyes never leaving that of the stilled mermaid.

Wendy said nothing but briefly saw as he brandished the revolver from his jacket's inner pocket, and she felt her stomach lurch.

"Oh no!" Wendy begged, closing her eyes tightly and turning away into his chest. Her voice was then muffled as she pleaded. "Oh please! Don't kill her!"

Hook could not believe the words he was hearing. Do not kill the creature that so obviously wanted this girl in his arms to be sent to her demise? He could not fathom this girl at times. Such...compassion for things that deserved naught. His eyes drew from the shaking frame of Wendy back to the cold, yet confused eyes of the mermaid before them. His revolver still trained on her did not fire.

"If you return again, rest assured you shall perish."

The striking creature hissed softly before slipping back through the small window, her eyes staying upon Wendy a moment before disappearing completely with a light splash a moment later. Hook looked down at the young woman shivering in his arms and felt the fatigue of what had gone on tire him suddenly. On board had been even worse and the carnage something horrible. Nothing of the sort had ever occurred in the history of The Neverland.

"Is it over?" Wendy whispered, dreading the answer.

"Yes," Hook's voice was even, low. "It's quite over."

"Thank you..."

"You are most welcome."

"Were there...many deaths?"

"Not too many. But we certainly put fear in their unloving hearts, rest assured."

"Are you hurt?" Wendy suddenly voiced, noticing there didn't seem to be any cuts or bruises visible.

"No," Hook replied calmly. "We were quite prepared. But, we are running low on supplies and ammunition. We set sail tomorrow night for various provisions."

"I see."

"Wendy," Hook began, his eyes searching her face before stopping. There was a long pause of unsaid wishes and words, and neither wished for it to go on much longer.

"Where shall I sleep?" Wendy blurted, suddenly realizing how fatigued she was. She felt her eyelids already dropping, and the thought of a safe, warm bed was quite drawing.

"Come," Hook said, placing a gentle hand upon the small of her back. "We shall retire to my room."

Wendy did not respond, but Hook was pleased to note that the girl didn't seem half as frightened as the first time he had made such a proposition. They entered into the cabin, with the shouts of the shipmates on deck slowing down to barely noted murmurs. Hook held the door open for Wendy in a most gentile fashion, and locked it behind them as they entered. The fire was still roaring, and Wendy walked to in somewhat of a trance.

She held up her hands to the flames, rubbing them in order to warm them. She was shivering, but not just from the cold. Hook came up beside her, warming his hands as well, and looking to her out of the side of his eyes.

"Thank you," Wendy said softly. "For not harming the mermaid."

"You are most welcome," Hook replied suavely. "But may I inquire as to why you wanted that creature to live? She was out to drown you."

"I know."

"Then why?"

"I could not stand to see something being harmed because of me," Wendy replied hurriedly, her eyes still drawn to the crackling flames before her.

"I see." Hook stepped back from the hearth, watching the silhouette of Wendy against the fire. She was so pure and good, and surely due to his blood still pounding in his ears from the fierce battle above, Hook's adrenaline was still coursing through him. There was something about how she looked and how he felt that made him want her more than ever before. The pulsating in his body was overwhelming, and he felt himself growing feral in disposition.

All inner guards against such an act were silenced now, his true belief in good form and being a gentleman were slowly being submerged by the shivers going up his spine every time the girl's eyes rested upon his own longer than a second. Could she feel it to? He let his eyes make their way slowly up from her feet to her face, lingering a long time on her profile. He viewed the girl dart him a quick look before immediately facing back to the fire, her cheeks turning a slight pink. From the fire or himself, he couldn't decide. Then, before his mind and his body had time for counsel, James Hook had stood, and giving his most charming of smiles at the oblivious Wendy, he decided to act on his most animalistic of instincts. For what he wanted, he often got.

"I believe you do wish to be seduced Miss Darling," Hook almost purred, his eyes upon her with steely resolve. His cloak, so heavy and suffocating was dropped swiftly into the chair before the fire. Wendy turned, her eyes widening in shock at his words.

"Pardon?"

"You heard what I said," Hook replied darkly, his boots heavily making their way to where she stood. With every booming step, Wendy's heart flipped thickly. "Before when we conversed you said you didn't wish to be seduced...but I believe now that you not only want to be seduced, you _need_ to be."

"No," Wendy protested feebly as the Captain drew nearer, her dark eyes, with an almost dreamy quality giving her away immediately.

She swayed slightly, her eyes almost closing with every inch closer his lips came towards her, until they had firmly closed at the first touch of the Captains warm mouth upon her own. Her body went limp, and Hook's expectant arms held her tightly to him. She surrendered completely then, allowing him to covet her mouth with unusual willingness. Slowly she began to kiss him back, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation of his mouth dueling against her own.

Slowly, she felt her feet backing slowly up as Hook moved them towards the bed, his kisses intoxicating her, and as if by childhood magic, Wendy and the Captain tumbled slowly onto the bed, their mouths still frantically drawing from one another. Wendy felt his weight upon her, his wonderfully grown up weight and feel. This was more magic that any story she'd told, or any feeling she'd felt in the The Neverland. His hand was pulling at the bodice of her gown, and Wendy did not move.

Her hands were trembling, and above her head, and as much as she wished to move them, they felt leaden for the moment. She could smell the leather and cologne the Captain wore a truly masculine smell she would forever associate with him. The Captain's kisses were longer now, more passionate if it were possible, and Wendy could feel all resolve slowly melting from her. She wanted his touch and feel and taste.

"Oh," Wendy murmured lustily, feeling the thrill of his very touch searing through her in the most pleasurable way. Everything sizzled, and she felt a novice hand of hers make its way to his starched, white collar. She felt as the Captain shifted slightly, his hair and nearness no longer so warm, and she felt his steady gaze upon her. She gasped slightly as a tentative hand came to rest upon one collarbone, drawing lazily down the length of it before stopping.

"Wendy," Hook breathed softly. "Have you no idea how enchanting you are?"

Wendy felt her heart pounding madly at his words, because of the very conviction in which he uttered them. This was passion and desire she had only read about in books, always dreaming it would be directed at her but never believing it. When had her most hated enemy turned into the one person she desired most? She hadn't time left to ponder that, for already the Captain's knowing lips were back, on her cheek, under her eye, at the tip of her nose and then finally, perfectly fitted against her wanting mouth, and she could not oppose.

The bed creaked slightly as the Captain's mouth grew needier, and suddenly Wendy's stomach began to flutter. Why hadn't she stopped this in its prematurity? This was...this was...There was no name for it. It was wrong and right and she could barely choke out an opposition.

"I am no conquest," Wendy managed to whisper determinedly. She felt Hook's mouth still and finally put away. She could not even bring herself to open her eyes and look to him. Hook's cheek rested beside her own, and he was taken aback at the feel of warm tears against his cheek. The girl was silently weeping!

"Is that what you think of my actions?" Hook whispered against her cheek, his voice thick with something the naive Wendy could not place. "That this is some game I am determined to win?"

Wendy said nothing, and the tears stilled. Still her eyes did not open. Her lips parted a moment in surprise as a silken handkerchief of Hook's wiped away her tears in an instant.

"My Wendy," Hook murmured drowsily into her neck. "How wrong you are. Don't you see that I have already lost?"

Wendy said nothing, but looked into the eyes of her captor, and she felt that he was telling the truth, though she didn't understand his cryptic wording. Lost? By all accounts he had won, he had the prize Peter desired, and she was never to leave him. What was there to lose? Still she said nothing. And when the Captain's lips brushed against her collar and then throat and then lips, she let her eyes fall shut and her body respond. And as much as she thought she should have, Wendy did not resist. She did not wish to.

"Wait," Wendy suddenly muttered drowsily as Hook moved off from her, looking to her expectantly, although pure unadulterated lust shone in his always entrancing blue eyes. He viewed as her dark eyes drew down his chest, then forearm and finally, at his dreaded claw.

"My infirmity," Hook muttered irritably, looking at the aforementioned appliance on the end of his one strong and noble arm in pure disgust with himself. "You are repulsed no doubt; of course I shall lea-"

But before Hook could let the words out, he felt a kind and soothing hand upon his forearm, pressing down lightly. He could barely turn to face the young girl in his bed, with eyes of something so pure he could not name.

"Please, do not leave me," Wendy asked quietly. "You've misunderstood. I simply wish to see you as you are, as you have seen me."

"As I am?" Hook repeated, as if he did not understand fully. Wendy nodded slowly, her hand coming to rest upon his forearm, where the strap to his hook lay under his thick layer of clothing. "May I?"

Hook could only nod silently after a moment of reservation, his lips slightly parted as he watched her. Wendy rolled the sleeve of his shirt up slowly, relishing this unnaturally intimate encounter. The fire crackled muted in the background, and all that Wendy could hear was the Captain's shallow breathing. Her fingertips achingly slow removed the first leather strap of the appliance that held Hook's claw upon the end of his arm.

It was a truly unique mechanism, but Wendy was glad to be freeing him from its confines. Finally, the last strap was unbuckled, and there was a sharp intake of breath from the Captain. Wendy saw him flinch as she slipped the contraption from its bindings, and let it slip quietly onto the ground as her eyes drew back to his infamous arm. It was nothing that held much fright.

A pale half appendage, with much scarring left behind from an impetuous and sloppy youth. Lines of white zigzagged back in forth, many lightning bolts upon the end of his impressive forearm and Wendy could not help but trace one pattern light with her forefinger, causing a new shiver to consume the Captain. Looking at him now, Wendy noted, his blue eyes unnaturally wide and vulnerable surrounded by a mass of glossy black curls, lean and toned body, although half hidden under his shirt, was pale and almost ethereal, and lips full and desirable, he was a truly beautiful man.

A missing hand that had once lead up to this most masculine arm before her, his lean body and noble, handsome and now, flushed face. Features and a body that Apollo himself would be envious of, and this man thought himself a hideous monster.

"I am afraid Captain," Wendy began slowly, her eyes traveling to his majestically sculpted face, "that you haven't the slightest inclination towards your own inspiring beauty."

Wendy saw the Captain give a shy look down, accompanied by a flush to the cheeks and sudden sneer of disdain that had Wendy reeling. She too was blushing, horrified that she had voiced her most private of thoughts, and mortified that he was sneering at her and looking so furious.

"Beauty Miss Darling?" Hook's mouth was thinned into a line of disbelief and irritation at her words. "I believe you to be mocking me, now."

"Not at all," Wendy insisted, growing slightly anxious at the Captain's moody reply. "Can you not accept compliments?"

"Not when they are such obvious falsehoods." Hook was standing now, angrily looking down at her. Before Wendy could say a word, Hook had turned, and grabbing his leather straps and claw prepared for the cabin door. Wendy, in what she would later recall as mad panic suddenly pushed the coverlet from her legs and sprinted to the door, determinedly standing before it, blocking his exit. He was a few steps away, but did not approach at a closer proximity.

"Step aside, Miss Darling," Hook growled, "I am not in the mood to be toyed with tonight."

"And you haven't been," Wendy replied vociferously, standing her ground. "Now you may not want to hear this Captain, but I did at a time in my youth and when we first met in my maturity, find you to be contemptible, vile and repugnant and hated you with such a fervor it was almost unbearable."

At this the Captain's eyes grew cold, and Wendy viewed his patience slowly being lost. He went to move her from the door, but she stood grounded, her anger at his irrational behavior speared her onward.

"But now, as I have matured and have known you privately, there is much to be discovered of you and that which I have uncovered, I have grown to enjoy. I no longer fear you, find you repugnant or despise you with such intensity. In fact Captain it is quite the opposite, and that is the truth whether you intend to take stock in my words or not. If you could only see past your own flaws as easily as others you would be much better off."

Her voice had risen as her speech became more impassioned, and as it ceased, there was a tinny silence in the room. Wendy's teeth were clenched in fury, and her eyes narrowed angrily, looking at the Captain's subtle scrutiny.

"I...believe your words."

His reply itself was echoed in disbelief.

"Good," Wendy said in small triumph, "that is because they are true. Goodnight Captain."

With that, Wendy stepped from the door and with unusual tenacity, went to the bed across the room and slipped under the coverlet after snuffing the candle beside her bed. She shut her eyes tightly, willing herself not to shake. Moments later, Wendy heard the slight shuffle of clothing, and boots being placed at the door and of his device being placed upon a chair. She heard the sound of candles being snuffed, and the scent of candle wax affirmed this. She heard the door being locked thrice and the firm steps of the Captain across the boards of the ships floor.

And finally, she felt the warmth of the Captain's body inches from her own as he slipped under the coverlet next to her. She would have insisted he use the sofa, had it not been for her own overwhelming desire to be near him at this moment. Something had shifted, passed between them and it still lingered now.

"I am not accustomed to such candor," came the rumbling voice of Hook moments after darkness. "And I can only apologize for my premature convictions and hope for your full forgiveness."

"You have it," Wendy murmured softly a moment later, deciding that such prior animosity between them was more abhorrent than ever previously thought.

"You have my thanks."

They lapsed into verbal silence with only the waves lapping at the side of the boat for sound until the Captain spoke again.

"Wendy, would you find it most inappropriate...if I were to hold you?" His words were strung together so inarticulately and hurriedly Wendy couldn't help but smirk in the darkness at it all. The only man Barbecue feared was asking to hold her! Her lips curled into a small smile and she nodded at him gently. 

"After our numerous indiscretions of today, to simply be embraced seems positively innocent."

Feeling bolder, Wendy shifted, turning to face the Captain. Only the moonlight from his small window shone in, creating an almost unearthly glow around him. Wendy felt her sigh become lodged in her throat as she noted the Captain was completely shirtless. The ingrained belief of proper protocol and manners was unavoidable to be thought, but Wendy was finding it easier and easier to slip into the temptations of the flesh, and she could not bring herself to look away now.

Wendy felt his hand around her waist, pulling her tightly to him. She was shifted slowly, until her hips brushed against his own. Wendy saw the Captain bite his lip harshly before his good hand was raised, and a gentle fingertip traced Wendy's mouth, his eyes trained upon where his fingers trailed. Before long, their mouths were once again at the mercy of one another, and the Captains hand had slipped down to the collar of Wendy's chemise.

Wendy groaned against his mouth, feeling as his hand brushed against her breast, causing her nipple to pebble against his rough palm. She could feel his hips pressing hard against her own, the fabric between them feeling like a thick wall. They wanted each other so desperately, their bodies crying out for one another. Again this fire-like heat was encompassing Wendy, and while the feel of the Captain so perfectly fitted against her was most invigorating, Wendy was the first to break apart.

"I believe you requested an embrace, Captain," Wendy said breathlessly, her mouth swollen from his passionate kisses, and her chest heaving from their encounter.

"I did indeed," Hook replied between intakes of breath, his eyes lazily taking in her form.  At this, the Captain pulled slowly from Wendy until he was at her side, still holding her, but at a more respectable distance. His head rested upon the pillow next to her own, and he gave her a gentle smile.

"Goodnight Wendy."

Many minutes later, Wendy lay in the warm embrace of her sleeping Captain, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. He was even more fascinating to watch when asleep. Soon though fatigue overtook her as well, and her eyes fell shut. And so they both slept on soundly, Wendy safely in Hook's arms, neither one of them aware of the fact that by the same time tomorrow night, they would be mercilessly ripped apart from one another by a force they could no longer control.


	16. Stand forth the one who did this

Wendy awoke the next morning to an empty bed, but she did not feel the slightest inclination towards sadness. Instead, she felt full with the emotions still surrounding her from last night. She was smiling softly, looking to the ceiling above. It had been wrong to sleep in his arms the night before. It had been so inherently unladylike, and so utterly lacking in decorum that Wendy could scarcely believe that it had occurred willingly on her part.

What of her propriety? What of her good name? Oh, to have her reputation sullied so easily by a pirate.

Wendy couldn't help but smile. As she did, a sudden thought entered into her mind. It was a strange one surely, for she had never happily pictured the subject...Marriage. Yes, she had imagined being a mother in her youth, and of Peter as her husband. But...true, real marriage?

Before she could stop such grown up thoughts, Wendy's mind had catapulted her into such a state of dreamy elation, she could scarcely stop herself. In her vast imagination, Wendy could imagine herself in a gown of flowing ivory, with a bouquet filled with the most beautiful and exotic of flowers found only in a place like Neverland. She imagined her dark hair dramatically done up, held in place by mermaid's combs with baby's breath entangled at the corners. She could envision the way her gown would shimmer and have an almost ethereal look to it, with a veil that held her vibrant face, and the train sailing down behind her dramatically as she rushed into the open arms of... ...Hook. Yes. She could see him now. His long curls shorn into a respectable style, his embroidered Captain's uniform turned in for a suit that made him look ever so dashing, but was unlike any suit she had ever seen upon a man. And he would take her into his arms, and kiss her passionately.

Wendy held a pillow tightly to her then, sighing in pure longing. A longing to have someone to love and hold and create new life with. Someone to share a name and an eternity with. Someone to- "Awake at last," came the sudden, husky rasp from the end of the room. Wendy sat up suddenly, drowsily looking towards the hearth, and suppressing a deep shudder. Hook stood, clad in only his trousers before the morning fire, his form quite breathtaking.

He turned slightly at her sudden movement, smiling in a calm sort of fashion before making his way towards the bed. There was something positively feral in his eyes and movements, like a stealthy animal, waiting to attack its prey.

"Good morning Captain," Wendy managed, struggling to sit up, for fear that she would not again rise if she were to submit now.

Even now as she watched him, she wanted to feel the roughness of the stubble upon his cheeks, feel the taut muscles of his chest underneath her naive fingertips. Kiss that full mouth that taunted her, tortured her. She wanted to have him hold her. She wanted to tell him stories and watch him sleep. Was this love? Wendy could not be sure. She was an educated girl, and was prone to being rational at times. Was this love? Or was it something far baser? Something...more primal?

The feel of his taut body against her own, so unabashedly desiring? The kisses that seem to intoxicate? That desire to not be forced to leave his company. Did she wish to leave this ship? Not without the Captain. She felt so young and foolish. What was love besides a feeling? Was this love? She had no time further to ponder these thoughts, for the Captain was now at the side of the bed. Wendy felt her heart racing, the bloody pulsating, and the uncomfortable flush to her cheeks. She closed her eyes fully as his mouth pressed her own, tilting her neck back in abandon...but her thoughts clouded the moment, causing her to tremble. Hook felt her shivers and pulled back slightly, looking into her flushed face.

"I have several tasks to complete this morning," he breathed against her mouth. "But I shall return for luncheon."

"Yes," Wendy whispered back, her eyes still closed.

Hook thought she was replying to his question. Inside Wendy however, something was saying _yes it is love! It is love! I feel it within my heart and body_. _I love Captain James Hook._

Hook smirked gently, looking at her naivety. Her sweetness. Her purity. He allowed one more lingering kiss before standing tall, and pulling on his clothes.

"I think I would like to do some sewing," Wendy remarked absently, looking to the floor as the Captain got ready for the day. "If you don't mind."

Hook looked down at the daydreaming girl, finding it harder and harder to resist her requests. He used to concoct ways of avoiding such things as walking out the door, or flatly refusing for fear that she would harm herself or others. But, looking down at her smiling face, and remembering young kisses, he found his resistance melting.

"Yes," he breathed gently, "of course."

Within the hour, Wendy had her own darling little sewing basket, most ideal for darning and such, just like her mother had taught her. She almost laughed at the sight of herself...sitting in a chair by the window, darning clothes like a real mother! Oh how times did change!

"Would you like me to sew that for you, Captain?" Wendy inquired benevolently, nodding towards his jacket upon the chair. It had a small tear in the shoulder. She felt in such high spirits that she wanted to share it with others.

"If you feel so inclined," Hook said kindly, grasping the jacket with his newly attached claw and bringing it to her. He was more than pleased to note that she did not flinch, nor even seem to notice the claw the rest so close to her face. She took the jacket from him, and pulling it onto her lap. Then reaching down into her sewing basket, Wendy retrieved a small, silver item that had her smiling fondly, with just a touch of melancholy. A thimble.

In a matter of moments, she had slipped it onto her index finger and begun to thread a crimson colored thread from its loop, and within a minute, she was already stitching the Captain's torn jacket. Wendy hummed a small tune slightly to herself, not even aware that the Captain was still standing behind her, watching her as she sewed. Hook recognized the tune as the one he had dedicated to her, and he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

She was oblivious to everything around her, and Hook watched her fingers nimbly dance around the needle, the soft plink of the thimble periodically heard as it tapped against one of the jacket buttons. And the Captain was lost in thought, wondering what it was about Wendy that captured him. It was mere moments before the Captain jerked into reality, finding that several minutes had passed during his reverie, and he was compelled to understand why. Why was he so lost in this slip of a girl?

Suddenly, the Captain had kneeled beside Wendy in her chair, and catching her off guard, he touched his fingers to her face, drawing her widening eyes to his own. Wendy could not move nor speak, for the Captain's gaze felt most intense.

"Wendy...my dear Wendy." The Captain lowered his hand from her soft cheek, but his gaze was still unwaveringly upon her own. "What is it that draws me to you so, like a moth to a flame? What is this?"

He stopped shortly, standing at once as he realized. Of course, the captain knew exactly what it was. Those hundreds of butterflies within his abdomen, that flush, that feeling as if he were about to take ill- But he would not admit it.

"I'm off," he said briskly, "Good morning."

And with a soft kiss upon her knuckles, the Captain had hurried from the room, locking it behind him soundly with Wendy staring after him in earnest.

It was several moments later before another figure entered the room.

"Oh, hullo," Wendy said cheerily to the figure, and noting that Smee trailed in after Hook and carried a large tray with a large assortment of food, her grin grew wider still.

"Thank you," she said happily taking the tray from Smee, who offered her a small smile before locking the door behind him and finding the Captain.

When he finally did, he was concerned to see the feared pirate standing despondently at the helm of the ship, looking into the churning waters below with a look of utter sorrow and dejection etched upon his face.

"Captain?"

"What is it Smee?" The Captain's voice was harsh.

"I worry sir," Smee continued nervously. "I worry about another battle. One we couldn't possible win. A battle to end all battles sir. You and Pan."

"Don't be daft," Hook replied without conviction. He knew it as well as Smee. He'd felt it all morning. He'd woken up with Wendy in his arms and known. The air was lighter somehow...there was a bounce in the world around. It unsettled.

"Either way," Hook continued breezily, "I suggest you warn the men to be especially careful. Man their stations and do what we can with the supplies left over."

"Shouldn't we go for more provisions-?"

"We cannot in weather such as this," Hook said pointing to the frothy waves. "We'd be obstructed by a wild storm before we'd even left port."

"Very good sir," Smee nodded as he spoke rushing from the Captain's side hurriedly. Hook watched the tossing sea, oblivious to all crude on deck sounds as he did so. His mind was wrapped completely around the young creature in his rooms at this very moment.

The young girl who'd embraced him so fervently he almost wanted to believe her words when she said she would return if freed. Foolish of him. He decided then and there, it was her purity that was maddening. Her naivety of all things adult, her innocent eyes and unknowingly cruel smiles at him. Take away her purity, he realized to himself, and it would take away the problem. _Yes_. Hook's heart beat at the realization.

Take away the one thing the girl has left of her childish world, and she would be meaningless to him. Another victim and prisoner to forget about as he made plans for the capture and demise of Pan. Perfection. Happily content with this realization, Hook immediately spun on his heels, barking at his crew that he wasn't to be disturbed and rushed to the cabins below deck.

He heard the catcalls to one another mate from above, and ignored them for now. Would she be submissive, he wondered darkly. He stood outside the door a moment, pondering how exactly he would steal her virtue unfettered. Surely there would be a struggle, for anything of value is worth fighting for. But, the question of the level of submission was still in the air. Hook smiled in a truly feral manner, looking to the cabin door inches from his fingertips.

Why was he waiting?

Any inner conscience had left him, for a man that is as villainous as Hook can be, can only control such impulses of brilliant thought for so long. With a valiant move of his fist, he burst the cabin door open. Wendy turned suddenly, her sewing upon her lap and her needle in hand. Her dark eyes were wide until she realized who it was.

"Is there a problem, Captain?"

Hook shut the door soundly behind him, his light eyes trained on hers alone. Wendy's eyebrows furrowed, and she stood shaking before the fire, looking to Hook worriedly.

"Is there a problem?" she repeated once more, although shakily.

Wendy viewed as the Captain slid his ornate jacket from his shoulders, dropping it wordless onto the nearby chair. Wendy's eyes followed the fabric's almost delicate tumble onto the rocker before her eyes went back to the Hook's face. He was undoing the buttons of his white shirt, his eyes still staring into her own. She observed the girl wasn't moving at all. More, she was like those animals that are prone to stilling at the first signs of danger, hoping to go undetected. Foolish little girl. She was wearing a pale white dress, rather plain and flowing to the floor. It offered little barrier, or hopes for protection for the girl from him.

Wendy was still standing at her chair, looking to him so confused.

"I finished sewing your jacket, Captain," Wendy was saying, looking shaken. Hook felt a sudden pang in his chest at her words.

He forced himself to look past her innocence. Past her kindness. This had to be done. There was a crash above deck, and Wendy's eyes darted to the ceiling of the room at the sound. As if her defense were completely down, Hook sprang and grasped her roughly around the shoulders. Since she was taken by such surprise, there was a moment of weakness, in which the Captain managed to push her from the fire and towards the bed.

Seeing what was happening, Wendy attempted to push the Captain away, but was unable due to her angling, and fact that the Captain was a seasoned expert of taking victims.

"Oh please, no," Wendy protested her eyes wide and her voice so small. Knowing if she was to continue moving with him they would end up by the bed, and she knew what was to happen there. And so, Wendy's legs collapsed, and she fell to the ground immediately, not expecting the Captain to follow down with her. "What has happened to you?"

Wendy could only look up in horror at the man she thought she had trusted and perhaps even loved, finding her breath to be completely lost. His knees were on ground on either side of her hips, and he was breathing heavily, looking down at her rather angrily until his head dipped down beside her own. "I need to do this," Hook ground out against her ear, pinning her to the cold floor now with his body.

"It is the only way to free us both."

Wendy felt the panic starting to build all over her at his cryptic words, making her feel as if her stomach had been struck so many times it had lost all feeling. This was so wrong, it sickened her.

"Do not fight it."

"I will!" Wendy shouted, flinching as Hook's hand came to clamp over her mouth in an instant. She struggled, stilling only as she felt the fabric of her dress being sheared by his infamous claw. Her shouts of protest and begging were muffled, and small tears sprouted at the corners of both her eyes. Hook's hand was taken from her mouth, only to be savagely replaced with his mouth, hungrily taking all of her in.

His hips were roughly against her own, and his frame so heavily upon her she could barely breathe. Wendy felt his hand slowly making its way down her collar and she could hold back her sobs no longer. She felt the mouth of Hook stilling as her tears spilled down her cheeks, and then pulling away. Her eyes were clenched tightly together, and she could feel his hot breath against her cheek. She cried out as she heard him growl angrily, slamming his curled fist upon the floor angrily beside her. It was several moments until her sobs lessened, and her shaking stilled after a moments time.

A long moment of the Captain staring down at her in quiet, numbed shock. She felt his body being lifted away from her, and she instantly went to cover the parts of her body exposed as a result of his sharp claw against her dress. Her modesty was preserved, for not a moment later her body was covered with the bed's large blanket. She lay there upon the floor, not moving, and her eyes shut tightly.

"Wendy." His voice was low, soothing. "Open your eyes."

She resisted, horrified at what may await her when she did. "Open your eyes Wendy."

The insistency in his voice allowed her to tentatively open her eyes, slowly drinking in the blurred view of the Captain.

"Forgive me."

He was kneeling next to her, his eyes looking imploringly into her own. And in a sudden rage, Wendy had sat up, pulling the blanket around her body, and with a sudden fluidity of motion, Wendy had pulled back her hand and slapped Hook soundly across the cheek. She heard him hiss as the palm cracked against his cheek, saw as his head jerked to one side unnaturally.

It all happened so fast, Wendy was breathing heavily at the adrenaline coursing through her. Her teeth clenched angrily together as she stared at his unnaturally red cheekbone.

"How dare you."

"You drive me mad!" Hook barked angrily in her face, the pain of his pride and his cheek fresh. He gripped her tightly on the back of her neck, forcing her to face him as he spoke. "I cannot think, I cannot eat or drink, I cannot function because my thoughts are of you. Near me, away from me, it doesn't matter."

"This is all your doing!" Wendy shouted back, pushing his chest angrily. "You captured me; you forced me to live here. All I have done is attempt to be civil. I have done nothing to deserve such treatment.

" "Don't you think I know that?" Hook sneered. "Don't you think I realized that this is all my doing? And while I wish nothing more than for you to be gone from me forever, so that I may finally be able to breathe again, I know that to drive you from me would result in my own miserable death. Do you understand?"

Wendy's breath was shallow, and her eyes unblinking, and imploringly looking to the Captain. What had overtaken him with such dark passion? What was this unnaturally possessive monstrosity that overtook the kindest of men?

"And so now I am torn Wendy Darling," Hook continued with fervor, "do I take from you the one thing I know would have you loathe me forever, and drive you from my thoughts and arms? Or do I continue masquerading my thoughts and needs in hopes of keeping you here as my chaste little housemaid, knowing that every moment you are kept near me, I shall go more and more mad?"

His hands loosened their grip around the back of her neck, and he sighed morosely, bringing himself to a standing position. He looked down at her, his eyes once more with their unearthly blue vibrancy.

"I wish only for your forgiveness," he whispered. "I cannot..." He fell silent, buttoning his shirt clumsily, his one hand working shakily. He didn't dare look at the girl who was so grave. And so in suffocating silence they were, neither moving.

“Tell me how you defeated the crocodile.”

Hook drew his eyes to hers in shock. He was about to protest but realized that he could not do her a further disservice. He paced as he told the story, trying to get it out in one go. But he hated to recall that moment.

“I was swallowed whole by the beast,” Hook began, his eyes cold. “I was frightened beyond all belief. But also I saw my chance at escape. My chance to leave this blasted place for good. I almost resigned to that fate happily.”

“But you couldn’t.”

“No,” Hook agreed aloud. “The monster had my hand and now he was to have the rest of me? I struggled within those confines before I began to saw my way out of the horrid monster. My hook, dulled from battle made for a very poor saw. But it worked. Within the hour I had defeated the crocodile that took my hand and split him open. He was a mere shell floating from me as I jumped aboard the Jolly Roger once again. And I have never spoken of that day until now.”

"Captain," Wendy whispered, looking to his tall frame. All of a sudden, there was a mighty boom that sent Wendy and Captain toppling to the floor. Wendy cried out in the sudden darkness than engulfed them both, save for a lone candle by the door.

"Calm yourself," Hook hissed, listening on board as canons cracked and yells of youth and maturity were slung back and forth at a wild pace. Realization dawned upon poor James Hook, and looking darkly to a pale faced Wendy, he whispered the one name that had haunted his dreams and brought Wendy's to life.

"Pan."


	17. When Wendy Grew Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite chapters. Thank you for commenting and reading!!! - UP

And now dear readers, up until this moment we have only known a small mite of the Captain's affection for Wendy Darling, and the almost grown up fury of Peter's. As we draw into this battle, I must warn you that all cannot end happily.

As with most grown up tales that come from children's stories, there is loss and sadness, and not all can be happiness and hope. And so we continue. Ah, there is Captain Hook now, gazing through his telescope rather fiercely. His tall frame seems dwarfed by the enormity of the Jolly Roger, but his mere presence has his mates cowering like mongrels, waiting for his orders, which are delivered with such precision, it is fairly reminiscent of an artists working upon a blank canvas.

There is the waiting, the intense agony of those first moments until like a thunderbolt, a stripe of crimson, then deep Mediterranean blue, and more inspiration until you're left quite awestruck. So is the leadership of James Hook. His eyes are burning with fire within as he lowers his telescope, and his claw seems newly sharpened.

Let us see what he has in store for our hero...

"The savages," Hook observed absently.

Smee was already calling the crew, and they were hurriedly grasping at their weaponry, shouting obscenities at the natives as they rushed towards the ship. And it was Tiger Lily's tribe coming up over the hills and beaches, armed with arrows and spears, and crying something terrible! And there were the Lost Boys and John and Michael looking older than they ever had! But...where was Peter? Hook stood his ground stoically a moment at the helm of the ship, his planning at a loss. His mind was filled with other, more lovely things that such ugliness of war was more than depressing, and he could not focus as he had in his sinister prime.

"MEN!" He bellowed loudly, and in a matter of seconds all the pirates were at his elbow, looking up to him with all the ardent hope and respect they could manage. Some nearest to him trembled, not at the thought of fighting the savages, but at the thought of Hook turning on them. Hook as you know has a temper to be reckoned with. He has little humor in matters of battle, and those who cross him rarely live to tell the tale. He surveyed the eyes of his men, their broad shoulders, their glistening faces, their tattooed forearms and chests. It was a powerful moment in that silence.

"Men," Hook said again, although more sinisterly quiet than before. "We are on the brink of something monumental here. Pan has gathered the forces of the savages. They will quickly overtake us if we do not fight with all the conviction and power we have."

He took a large breath here, and saw with hidden glee that they were clinging onto his every word. Even in the face of such adversity, Hook was a man of vanity. He loved to be admired, and in such times as these, he felt invincible.

"Hold nothing back," he continued with fervor, "The aim of battle is to come out the victor. If we lose to savages and children, we will forever be a laughingstock. And I assure you whoever does not ensure such victory, will feel a touch of the cat before they walk the plank! Or if I am truly angered, you shall shake hands with this..."

Hook held up his claw to punctuate his point, and surveyed the sea of faces as he did so, seeing sudden indecision and fear at his words and weapon.

"But we shall not falter men, we shall not lose." He assured them of this with a tone that demanded no opposition. "We shall win. We shall have our victory. We shall be _free_!"

The last word was almost drowned out in the thunderous applause and calls of acclimation from the crowd. And Hook, despite the occasion, felt his chest swelling with pride, and a small smile entered onto his features. It lasted only a second, for he was still a man of tactics and practicality. Too soon he was again pragmatics and orders.

"Jukes! Furnish the men with weaponry, hurry! Cecco, arm the cannons. Take Smith and Curdoy with you around the ship! I want every cannon used and precise. The rest of you mangy dogs, find any item that could be used as a weapon against those sniveling creatures, and bring me my victory!" Again the thunderous cries of admiration and agreement rang out over the sea, and the men were at it, going off to their tasks and preparing for the worst. When there was a moment of calm, and privacy Smee drew over to Hook, whose stern eyes were cast across the wide ocean in still calculation. He almost didn't want to break the thick reverie, but knew he must. If the savages took the Captain, all would be lost.

"Captain?" he offered in a small voice, trying not to snivel.

"They have come for Miss Darling," Hook whispered to Smee whom he'd just realized had reconvened at his side just then. His eyes normally so ethereal were now turning a quite unsettling shade of what could only be later described as crimson. Smee, who knew not of the Captain's deeper regard for the girl could only stand stupidly before him.

"Fetch me my cutlass," Hook finally barked at Smee who reappeared moments later, cutlass in hand. By then the savages were ducking the cannons that the pirates shot out at them, twisting and turning and shouting foreign calls to one another. Hook readied himself, in prepared fighting stance.

To back down from such an onslaught would deem him unmanly to say the least. He rushed amidships, to aid his followers. Upon the back of the ship there was a small scuffling sound, barely heard. And slowly, a familiar figure lifted itself upon the ship, a dagger clenched in their teeth. Two moccasin covered feet silently fell upon the hull of the ship.

Slowly, the head was lifted, and there she was. Princess Tiger Lily. If you were to see Tiger Lily in the flesh, you would undoubtedly find her a rare beauty. Her skin is a tawny shade of caramel that no painters mixings could ever recreate, made even more exotic by the thick black plaits that hang at either side of her head. With soulful dark eyes that seem to entrance, and a smile rarely seen, she is revered by all those that know her.

She is shorter than most, and of slim build, but she can scale a ship better than any of her tribe mates. And she possesses a rare regality that none can master save for those who are born with it internally. She surveyed the events upon the ship quickly, and took the dagger from her mouth, placing it securely under the string of leather around her waist.

She looked behind her quickly, seeing as another familiar figure sail up with ease. Peter Pan in all his youthful glory sank lightly on the planks of the ship, looking more than pleased with himself. He had gathered all his mates here to help him, and even Tiger Lily's tribe to boot! John hadn't been that pleased with him, but when Peter returned with promise of saving his sister, what else could he do? It had been a matter of hours before they had all set out to strike at the heart of the Jolly Roger. Weapons had been fashioned quickly; the boys had been more than ready and excited at the prospect of a new adventure.

"Peter," Tiger Lily said in clipped tones now. "Careful."

"I will be," Peter chided in a dull tone.

"I find Wendy now," Tiger Lily said with a short nod in Peter's direction before she had melted into the shadows the ship would allow, leaving Peter to muse over when to strike. Hook himself had slipped down below deck during all the madness, and had rushed in on an empty chamber. He felt his heart give a sickening lurch, before he saw two pale hands almost hidden under the bed.

"Wendy," he whispered softly in relief, lurching towards the bed.

"Captain?" Wendy slid out from under the bed and allowing the Captain to wrap her tightly within his embrace, responding back with vigor. Their prior animosity seemed to fade as quickly as the red mark on Hook's face had from her harsh slap prior.

"I didn't know what to do!" She cried clinging to him. "I was shouting and calling, but the door was locked. Then I was so worried that horrid mermaid would be back for me so I hid. Is Peter overtaking the ship?"

"And if he is?" The tone in Hook's voice was icy, and he pulled away from the girl just then. Wendy saw the flash of irritation cross his features and felt her own stony resolve forming.

"I wish to see him."

"You know that to be entirely impossible." Wendy's eyes darkened. "I wish to see Peter. I will tell him not to harm your men."

"And you know that this isn't at all possible," Hook repeated with a roar, looking to her furiously. "Firstly I would be a laughingstock to my crew if you were to defend my honor. And we both know that Pan would never back down from a quarrel with me. You may not be a total prisoner here, but I will not relinquish what is rightfully mine."

"Stop," Wendy said angrily, shutting her eyes and holding up a hand to slow his speech. "Just stop all of this. For the final time James Hook, I am not your property. I wish to see Peter that is all."

"And he will capture you and take you back for himself," Hook replied, irritated at her words.

"How is that any different than what you've done to me?"

For once, Hook was at a loss. They stared at one another before there was a sudden boom above deck, and the ship rocked violently.

"There isn't any time."

Almost immediately the Captain had tied a scarf loosely around Wendy's eyes -despite her protests- and dragged her even further into the bowels of the ship. Above deck, the Lost Boys were having a marvelous time, slaying pirates, and picking up scattered treasure. Oh, they would have so much to tell Peter when they returned! Tootles had already found a gold tooth, and Curly a small jeweled dagger!

They had a great many tricks up their sleeve, having been preparing for this moment a long while. There was a rousing match on either side and almost an even playing field. Tiger Lily's tribe was proving to be a force to be reckoned with. You may not know this, but many in Tiger Lily's tribe had been waiting for such an occasion. They mainly kept to themselves, never really invited to join in on such adventures. The duels eventually led right off the ship and onto the beach! There were much more exciting weapons to be found there and the pirates were eager to be on land for such a fight.

Some men stayed upon the ship, fighting vigorously against one another, the cannons at the ready for a familiar young man. It was when the first of Tiger Lily's tribe fell dead upon the sandy beaches, that the entire adventure took a rather dark turn. It was an awful sight to witness, and not one I wish to discuss at length here. I shall leave it at; a very young member of Tiger Lily's tribe fell to their death, defending what they believed to be right. It was a sickly, grown up moment when all sides witnessed such. The fighting stopped for a full moment, until the body was on its way back to the tribe before resuming, but from that moment on the fighting had a less fun, and more deathly grip to it.

I would write more dear readers, if I didn't think the carnage would be too much. But it was.

Several lives were lost from each side, Hook's crew; not prepared for such another onslaught of battle (since children are notorious for forgetting things and coming back to them after a while), were quite unarmed and therefore, easy to capture. But they were not willing to go down easily. Peter was still hidden behind a large barrel of ale for the most part, plotting his revenge on old Hook; this was a new tactic for the boy.

He was normally headstrong, and went with the moment. But this needed a more premeditated approach. Suddenly Peter realized the uncomfortable stillness upon the ship. He peered over the top of the barrel, seeing that it was almost empty. Where were- A hand grasped his shoulder roughly then and he turned quickly, his dagger at the throat of Tiger Lily. His own pale face reflected in her widened, dark eyes. He immediately took it down, kneeling slightly before her in respect.

"Peter," Tiger Lily said through tears as he stood, her English choppy. "Too many of mine hurt; I must take them back to chief-"

"But Wendy-"

"I cannot find." Tiger Lily's eyes were imploring forgiveness.

"I told you of that underground cove in one of the cabins-"

"Empty."

Without another word Tiger Lily had rushed to the hidden foliage of the beaches, guiding her injured back to their tribe. Peter felt his heart sinking at the realization that he may lose Wendy once again to the scoundrel James Hook. On the beaches, rapier in hand, John prepared against a large pirate with a ring through the middle of his nose. His breath was rank, and his arms as thick as tree trunks. Michael was fighting a rather lithe pirate, who seemed far too wiry to be captured.

The rest of the Lost Boys were either atop of trees tossing down rocks at their enemies, or hiding in bushes, preparing to strike at any wayward pirate that attempted escape. And all the while, only one figure noticed as Hook attempted to slip up from the cabins. The villain was halfway to the helm of the ship when a familiar crow sounded above. He didn't even have time to speak the boys name aloud before he felt the sharp tip of the dagger behind his left ear.

"Turn Hook."

***

Below deck, Wendy was crouched in the corner of a small room that smelled of charcoal. She could feel the splinters of wood under her fingertips. She could hear cries from above, and was sweltering from the heat of the small confine. She had been there who knew how long, and was only now finished wriggling out of the ropes the Captain had placed around her wrists to ' _keep her from acting foolish'_ as he put it.

Wendy's hands ripped the cloth from around her eyes and she blinked, not used to the darkness. In front of her was only a sliver of light near the bottom of what could only be a door, and Wendy realized she was hidden in a small cubby within the ship without a candle to use leverage. She pushed roughly at the small door in front of her, seeing that it only offered a slightly bigger slice of air and light. She could just reach her fingers out and feel the cool air. She could see and now feel the lock and chain that held the small passageway shut, and she now recalled the metallic click as the Captain had locked her in.

She knew it was pointless to scream. No one could hear above the crashes on deck. How was she to be released? She knew the Captain was overreacting, and if he'd been listening properly, he would have heard Wendy expressing her desire to stay with the Captain. He would have heard her feelings on the matter, and how she merely wished to see Peter once more and have no more animosity.

But James Hook was a man of jealousy, for it seemed that something within him had not matured as he had over the years. Or almost as if being around such youths so long had somehow affected him. What he wanted was Wendy, and he was not about to give her up without a vicious fight. She had to escape. She had to explain. She had to see Peter! But how? How would she ever be able to pick this lock?

Frustration consumed her, after rattling the chain and calling for help did little to further the situation. Wendy felt bitter tears biting at the back of her eyes, but she swallowed them thickly down. This was no time to panic. She crouched at the side of the small room, holding her head in her hands. She was about to sit more fully when something scratched at her ankle. Wendy cried out, looking down quickly and unfortunately not able to make much out in the dark. What was that poking her? - Ouch!

There it went again. Wendy stood as best she could in the small space and reached quickly to the base of her gown, and found there what she recalled had been an accident. When sewing, she'd placed the thick sewing needle at the hem of her dress so that it wouldn't be lost in all the clothes she was darning. She'd merely forgotten to remove it after all the clothes were finished! She contained the cry of hope that begged to be heard and plucked the needle from its current confine.

And with a look of concentration and a needle within her fingertips, Wendy began to pick the lock.

***

Hook swallowed thickly at the feel of the sharp blade. It was beyond insulting to be addressed in such a manner. In Hook's logic, a battle should be dealt with the utter most decorum and respect. But to an ever youthful child like Peter, it is in the moment one must act, consequences be damned! It was also insulting to have a child as a foe, Hook decided, turning rather slowly, covertly reaching for a small dagger he himself kept in his left breast pocket should an occasion such as this one arise. A boy of no more than twelve that managed to usurp him more than once. His face was contorted into stilled rage, and he forced a most gentlemanly smile upon his features as he turned to face the pixie featured boy floating inches from him, the dagger fiercely raised at eye level, and a look of pure loathing upon the boy's face

. "Ah," Hook said, as if delighted with the new guest. "What a treat. Peter Pan himself, in the flesh. How have you been, dear boy, without your Wendy to coddle you?"

You can see from this dialogue in itself that Hook was a man of true courage. For even at the face of adversity, with Peter's sharp blade inches from his face, he had the gall to taunt the boy even then. This is because Hook is a careful study of his opponents

. "I must say," he continued unnerved, "she has made a most complimentary addition to our crew here. Her stories are unsurpassed, as is her company in general. But of course...you knew that."

"I shall give you the count of ten," Peter said stonily, his dagger still poised for injury. "If you believe in God I suggest you pray to him now, for when I reach the count of ten, you will be finished James Hook."

"Now now," Hook replied smoothly, though internally he was beginning to panic. This was not the normal way Peter behaved. Where was the boasting? That was always an ideal way to grasp the upper hand! "There's no need for such vicious talk. I am more than willing to strike a bargain."

"I have no need for bargaining," Peter said, a familiar smug look of victory upon his tanned face. "I have the upper hand."

"You do indeed my boy," Hook said, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible under the circumstances. "But you have no yet procured your beloved Wendy, have you?"

"I shall have her in the end."

"Ah," Hook said smirking slightly. "Such bold words coming from a boy who doesn't even know where his treasure lies. I saw you coming a mile away boy, what makes you think I haven't hidden her again? It would appear you foolish boy, we are once more in the position we were so many months ago. My life or hers? What decision shall you make this time, boy?"

At this, Peter faltered for the first time. His blade, no longer so steady, now lowered slightly, his eyes warily upon his sworn enemy. And as the child that he was petulant at being deceived once more.

"You let me live before," Hook taunted, his eyes dimming. "Will you make that same foolish mistake?"

Hook could see the boy's determination faltering. He'd also been eyeing the dagger at the side of Peter's hip. If the boy came just a bit closer, preparing to strike a fatal blow to him, Hook could easily reach out for that dagger and come out the victor. But Peter wasn't biting.

"I shall not kill you," Peter said slowly, "until I have Wendy."

"Come now," Hook said, irritated at the juvenile logic. "You simply cannot have it all. Either my life, or your precious Wendy's."

There was little hesitation in Peter's face, and in the end his answer was simple. "Wendy."

"Of course," Hook said, watching closely as Peter lowered his dagger and stepped back. "You've made the right decision, Pan, for the first time in your life."

Peter scowled, and looked angrily to the Captain. "I want Wendy. Where is she?"

"She is in the main cabin," Hook answered with a grimace, pointing towards the door to the cabins. Peter started towards them but stopped, looking back.

"How do I know this isn't a trick?"

"On my honor," Hook said innocently raising a hand to his chest. "She is in my cabin."

Now Peter was at a crux. All his boys were upon the beach fighting, they wouldn't be able to assist him. And suddenly, without warning Peter had advanced on Hook and punched him soundly across the jaw. Hook's eyes widened in disbelief at the boy's actions before he fell to the ground loudly. If he had been able to as he fell, he would have jeered 'bad form' at the boy's atrocious sportsmanship.

His eyes however were closed, his mouth slightly open and his body crumpled upon the ground. Peter surveyed the Captain's stilled body a moment, proud of his workmanship. He'd promised to let Hook live, he'd never promised not to injure the monster. And now, for Wendy. What he'd been searching for all this time! And as if his luck couldn't get any better, the door to the cabin's suddenly burst open and Wendy, who had freed herself from the confines of her prison at the bottom of the ship suddenly, saw Peter standing there.

"Peter!" Wendy rushed forward, her eyes resting on Peter! Peter at last! She felt her heart swelling at the mere sight of him!

She grinned widely as Peter turned, his own face breaking into a most warming smile. He came quickly towards her, his light eyes merry. Hook's eyes slowly opened, his lips curling into a most sardonic grin as he brought himself up from the ground, wiping the blood from his mouth carelessly. His movements were silent. Victory. Freedom, all within his grasp. Wendy's smile died upon her face, her dark eyes darting slightly to Hook who was advancing rapidly behind the oblivious Peter.

Wendy saw the claw raised, its sharp tip glinting in the light, and what chilled her to the core, was the sudden crimson light in the Captain's eyes. Never before in all her life, had Wendy seen such hatred up close. Never before had Wendy seen true evil. Before she could say a word, Hook had kicked Peter to the ground roughly, the boy's blade skimming across the planks of the ships floor. Peter's eyes rolled around in his head, his hands groping blindly around him. And in an instant, Hook was over him, his claw raised. He quickly relieved Peter of the dagger at his hip, throwing it over the ship as it slipped into the water.

"I have won this time, I have my victory." Hook ground out angrily, raising his claw, and leaning over ever so slightly he looked into the unfocussed eyes of Peter. He could not contain his smile any longer. "Thus perished Peter Pan."

The tip of the claw glinted maliciously against the sun, casting a dark shadow the length of Peter's body. And then with a sickeningly quick swish, the claw began coming down on Peter.

"NO!" Wendy screamed shrilly, covering Peter's fallen body with her own.

Hook's claw narrowly missed her, instead cutting harshly into the planks beside her. He felt his heart beating viciously at the realization she could have been easily killed. Before words could be spoken, Lost Boys and Pirates alike began swimming onto the main ship see what was unfolding. It was a strange, rare moment in which the opposing sides could not fight one another, but instead witness true history in the making.

"Wendy!" John and Michael shouted victoriously, losing hope as they saw the tears in their sister's eyes.

"Wendy," Hook growled, looking down at her with fury in his eyes. Such cruel repayment for his obviously wasted adoration. He felt his good hand trembling into a fist, and felt the eyes of those around him watching.

"Move."

"I cannot," Wendy whispered lowly, her face tearstained as she held the slight form of Peter to her, like a mother holding her child. Her eyes looked up to him imploring, silently begging for mercy. "If you kill him, you shall kill me in the process."

Hook was dumbstruck, merely staring at the girl as she breathed heavily, holding Peter ever more tightly to her. Hook knew there was little persuading her to release him. Hook surveyed the crowd, and then back to Wendy.

"Bind him," Hook said simply. Wendy was about to scream something fierce, but the Captain continued. "But do not harm the boy."

The pirates looked confusedly to one another, but bound Peter's arms and ankles as told, and due to his dazed state, Peter's attempt to fight back were weak. They finished, leaving Peter bound before Wendy and then they stepped back, looking expectantly to Hook.

"Good." Hook's voice was dark.

"What do you want?" Wendy demanded.

"For you to make one, simple choice," Hook started somberly, walking around the girl as he spoke, his voice evenly delivered. "Either you must return to London and grow up, never to see the Neverland or all it has to offer again and have your precious Peter live."

The Captain slowly turned to Wendy, looking at her with dead, hollow eyes. "Or...you may stay here in the Neverland and never grow up. But with Pan's life as the price."

All those surrounding the two figures thought the reply to be an obvious and truly easy one. The girl would pick home, and save her dear Peter. But for Hook and Wendy, they knew it was the ultimate decision. Pan or Hook. It was the ultimate test of Wendy's love.

"Why must it always be choices with you?" Wendy asked in anger and frustration. "Why can you not be content to find middle ground?"

"You know as well as I do that there is no middle ground here, girl," Hook spat out angrily. "I make choices, because it is in the face of such that the truth is uncovered. And so, what is your decision?"

There was a long pause.

"You are unfair, sir."

"Your decision Miss Darling, if you please," Hook replied coolly, looking darkly to her face as she raised it to him. The pirates laughed darkly around him, but he heard nothing. He felt his stomach bottoming as he saw the determination in her dark eyes. Wendy's answer came before her first word was spoken.

"I shall leave."

"As you so desire," Hook replied with little hesitation. He turned to the Lost Boys and his men, noting the awed silence. Wendy watched all of this silently, seeing the way he barely took notice of her.

"Leave Pan bound," Hook finished, finally looking gravely to Wendy.

"Bound?" Tootles inquired angrily, "how are we to know you won't murder Peter?"

"He is a gentleman of his word in this count," Wendy replied with confidence, noting that the Captain still did not meet her eyes. "He shall not harm Peter."

"I shall untie the boy and not harm him further," Hook said, suddenly interested, looking to Wendy from head to toe. "For the price of one favor."

"Ask it."

"I wish for a private meeting with you, Miss Darling."

Wendy was silent a moment, calculating.

"After all this," Hook said moving his hand about the Jolly Roger's deck. "I doubt that a mere few minutes could cause much more harm."

"NO!" Peter cried out, suddenly alert, waking from his daze, wrestling with the ropes that bound him. "Don't go Wendy! He'll kill you!"

"You have my word," Hook said, never looking away from Wendy's face. He saw the indecision that flickered within her eyes, and the crease between her eyebrows as she considered the proposition.

"If you wish to stay here with your leader, do so." Hook said lazily motioning towards the dark form of Peter. The Lost Boys hurried to his side, guarded by pirates.

"You'll be sure that no harm comes to any of the boys?" Wendy asked tentatively, motioning towards the group.

"Wendy, what are you thinking?" John called out, stepping forth. Wendy did not hear him.

"You have my word."

Hook gave Smee a quick nod that the older man returned, watching the pirates warily. Wendy was torn, but knew she had to save the lost boys, for they were in part her children. Wendy stepped forward, nodding slowly.

"Release him," Hook said lazily to the nearby pirates.

All looked rather confusedly to one another, and knowing that to voice opposition against Hook would result in death; they did as they were told slicing through the ropes that held Peter prisoner. He wrenched from their grasp as the last rope was torn from him, standing and looking to Wendy with hurt in his eyes.

"Wendy…don't do it."

"I have given my word," Wendy said defeatedly. "I shall return momentarily Peter."

Unhappily, she saw the confusion in the boys eyes, the hurt at her easy departure and the youthful ignorance that let Wendy know that he was still angry with her for wanting to stay with Hook in the first place. It was a look that made Wendy realize, she truly could never return to the Neverland, even with Hook's consent. Wendy followed Hook past the door to the cabins below, wincing as it shut loudly behind them.

She suddenly felt Hook's hand wrap around her own, and she did not pull from him as they made their way down the steps. Instead, Wendy observed Hook's profile, seeing his mouth terse in concentration. The cornflower colored eyes fixed unblinkingly before him into empty space. This was the last she would see of him. Wendy drew unconsciously closer to him, gripping his hand tightly. What did he want her audience for? What was he planning? She was almost certain he wouldn't harm her...but then what? She hadn't time to question further, for they were at the door of his cabin at that moment, and inside a moment after that.

"Take a seat," Hook offered, pointing towards the two chairs before the fire. Wendy did as he asked, watching as he removed his thick, decorative jacket. He drew towards her, his eyes boring holes into her own.

"I could not have you leave without seeing you once more," Hook finally voiced, seating himself across from her in the plush chair. "I wanted privacy."

"For what?"

"For my goodbye."

Hook's eyes were everywhere but her face now. "I may not appear it Wendy, but I do believe in good manners. And I do believe in formal goodbyes."

They lapsed into silence for what seemed eternity. Wendy suddenly started as Hook launched off his chair, and came before her, slowly lowering his face to hers. His mouth was tempting, full and powerful. Her mouth was willingly captured, and she did not protest as Hook's arms came around her, pulling her tightly against him. Their kiss ended prematurely when Hook pulled away, unable to take it anymore and pressed his cheek against her own, closing his eyes tightly as he spoke.

"Do not leave me Wendy."

Wendy heard the passion in his voice, and the strength in which he held her against him. Hook opened his eyes only when he felt the wetness of her tears against his cheek. He moved his back back, scanning her face quickly.

"I must," she responded softly, sniffling lightly. "I could never harm Peter."

Hook stood, looking down at her with an unreadable expression upon his face. He glanced her over, unsure of what to do, but knowing that he had again lost to Pan. "He has won," Hook said sorrowfully, knowing his fate.

"I am never destined to win, Wendy. Never. It is my curse to live upon this blasted ship. My fate. To witness a thousand carefree children come and go, hating them all the while for I know that I shall never leave myself. But of course you're just a child at heart...you couldn't possibly- Can you even imagine what torture this is Wendy?"

Wendy could only shake her head as Hook continued, not even seeing her.

"Knowing that I am never to hold you again? Never to touch you? Never to have you all to myself again? My fate is one of solidarity and stinging disappointment that accumulates with every year that passes in this blasted place. Who knows how many wasted lifetimes I've spent upon this cursed ship. Can you even imagine what torture this is?"

Hook was angry now, furious even at the thought of losing and knowing that it was inevitable. He was outnumbered, and it would be a matter of hours before the entirety of the Jolly Roger was seized by that little Pan hellion and his ilk if he further kept Wendy captive. The savages would be back, and his men were already weary. Hook grasped his jacket, pulling it over his shoulder, preparing to rush out the door, not able to take this agony, when a small voice reached out to him.

"Yes..."

Wendy viewed the Captain still, his hand upon the handle, waiting. What had she said?

"And I fear it the same."

"Then...why?" His eyes were brimming with confusion. "Why leave?"

"Because I could never be the cause of someone's death," Wendy stated matter-of-factly. "I could never live with it. And if I were to stay as your captive it would never truly be living. And if Peter were to die for my happiness...it would be for naught. I would never be happy again."

"But in your leaving..." Hook began sorrowfully, wanting to go on but finding it useless.

He shook his head, sighing deeply as if he were an infant, trying to breathe for the first time. He remembered her and the mermaid. No matter what harm it would do to her, she could not raise a cruel hand against it. Suddenly, the Captain had turned, tossing his jacket off of him as he did. Wendy had barely a moment to gasp before the Captain had grasped her roughly by the shoulders and begun to kiss her intensely.

Wendy felt her body already responding, and did not move under his ministrations. She let him carry her hurriedly to the large bed, crawling atop it and her in the process. She felt herself almost melting into the sweet smelling blankets and pillows, her eyes hazily half open. She was no longer scared. She had known this was destined the moment she had been brought in. His fingers drew hastily to the drawstring of her nightgown, and he expected protest. He looked to Wendy then, his mouth pulling from hers and his eyes searching her own for any sign of struggle.

"I want this," she whispered, pressing her mouth to his hungrily.

He pulled back panting after a moment, feeling himself growing hard at the sight of her flushed face. He felt himself pressing against her body, wishing the nightgown gone entirely. She moaned lowly in her throat. He viewed her head tilting back in rapture, her body pressed willingly against his own. He viewed the hollow notch at her neck, and pressed his lips gingerly to it. His movements were quick however, time being of the essence.

"Oh Wendy," Hook whispered, wanting to pull away, but finding it impossible.

Wendy felt the Captain doffing his shirt, tearing it away in frustration and she wished she could help, but felt so utterly weak from all that was coursing through her, she was unable. Too many clothes between them. She felt the Captain's insistence now, and gasped as he ripped her chemise completely open, exposing her and she did not shy from his wanting gaze. She let his eyes wander around her exposed flesh, doing the same with his bared chest. She let an inexperienced palm slide across each pectoral, stopping just at the base of his pale throat.

"Wendy," Hook growled huskily against her mouth, trying his best to press her more firmly against him. He palmed her breast, quivering as he felt her nipple pebble under his hand. Wendy hissed with pleasure, her eyes falling closed. She grabbed at his back, pulling him more into her. Hook shifted his pelvis against her own, feeling her desire and worry now. He nipped hungrily at her lower lip, feeling a rush of pure lust covering him as she gave a whisper of a gasp. Wendy's eyes slammed shut, her body tightening at the fierce pleasure the Captain was bestowing.

Did he know how mad he was driving her with the simplest touch? He must. She forced herself not to cry out, fearing that the moment would be lost if she did. She felt his hand slipping her dress above her waist,  and heard the unmistakable sound of his trousers being shifted. Everything was happening so quickly. His fingers found her, dancing around her mound and causing her to moan thickly with wanton desire. Sounds she had never made in her entire life. He watched her face as he brought her this pleasure, his breathing shallow and rapid before he dove into her mouth. 

His kisses were intoxicating, and her back arched now at the sensation of his hand. She felt him pull his hand back, his hips shifting and - She felt him enter her. Gently and thickly and filling her completely. She felt all worry slowly fading and instead was this new, formerly suppressed feeling. One that grew with every thrust the Captain delivered against her body.It felt so good. And then- there was a searing, flash of pain and Wendy cried out softly, feeling as the Captain pulled slightly away. She heard the shallow pant of his voice.

"What have I done?"

Wendy felt him begin to move away, and she gripped him tightly around the elbows, her eyes snapping open. She saw the panic and regret in his eyes, as he obviously felt he had gone too far. Seen that he'd done something irreversible.

"No," she begged, shifting him closer.

She couldn't bear the thought of having him leave her now. Not when there was so much pleasure hiding within the pain. She willed him to stay, holding his elbows tightly. Her eyes shut again as she felt his chest lower against her own. She sighed in relief, gritting her teeth as he continued, slowly at first; she could feel his eyes upon her, gauging her. Then the speed began to accelerate, and the pain was replaced by a build up of pleasure that Wendy never thought was possible.

"Don't...cry out," Hook whispered raggedly against her earlobe, causing more shivers to invade her. "He...mustn't hear."

Why Hook didn't want Peter to hear was beyond Wendy. Wendy only nodded her head weakly, but feared she was about to lie. There it was this feeling of elation that Neverland and Christmas combined could never have given her. It was a baser fulfillment that had her whimpering at Hook's mere touch. And the build up was so intense, that she felt the cry already building up in her throat.

The Captain's hips ground deeper against her own, and thrust roughly until the pleasure was too much, and Wendy's cries sounded. The moment the first cry had begun to escape her lips; the Captain's mouth had ground firmly against her own, causing her cry to be muffled until she felt she could cry out no more. She felt the Captain's body slowly stilling, and as he buried his head in her neck, she heard the suppressed moan and felt the tremor of his body against hers.

They lay together, entwined against one another until they felt the moment slipping. The insistency of Peter just upon the deck, waiting for what he believed to be rightfully his. The second part of the bargain. Wendy was then standing, her face flushed, and looking in Hook's opinion, more beautiful than she ever had before. And he realized with mingled awe and regret, she had finally grown up. He watched transfixed as she came over, looking expectantly to him.

Opening his slender hand with her own, she placed something small but heavy into it. He did not look down, for his eyes never left her face. Her own dark eyes made their way to his face then, and in a soft, childish sort of fashion, Wendy placed a tender kiss against the Captain's rough cheek.

"Goodbye."

Hook looked after her, never speaking. His pride and his heart demanded not to yield. And so in silence he watched her leave him, watched her open the door and slip out of it. Hearing as she and the rest of that lot flew away, never to return. Slowly, in a daze he let his eyes move down to his still clenched hand. Even more slowly did his pale fingers part, revealing something that signified more than he could even comprehend.

In his palm, lay a thimble.


	18. The Return Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update before Easter Break! Please enjoy! - UP

Peter hadn't been pleased when Wendy appeared on deck once more that afternoon, with her eyes glassy as she drew nearer to him. He took one look at her, and with a disgruntled look upward, he sailed towards the heavens. If you were to look up at the moment Peter's body hit the sun's light, you would imagine him a most resplendent and awe inspiring phoenix, rising from the ash into the light.

This is undoubtedly how he would like to be seen, which is why he does such with such dramatic flourish. One must admire his showmanship. He looked down at his mates, and lost love, and felt not the sadness of realization of loss, but instead joy at the taste of sweet victory over evil.

"Hurry up you lot," he ordered childishly, though not with malice.

He may have been displeased with Wendy, but he couldn't help but revel in his victory. When the Lost Boys, Wendy, Michael and John were all in the air, and sailing away from the ship (with the youngest of the group jeering at the pirates and pulling faces) Peter let out a victorious crow. It was a sound Wendy would cherish for a long while to come.

They had been flying upward only a second before Peter was looking back to the deck of the Jolly Roger, viewing as a familiar figure stepped up to the helm, looking utterly miserable. Peter could not contain his joy.

"Why there is old Captain Hook now!" Peter cried merrily, casually watching from the sky, looking down at the pirate. "Hullo Captain! Shall I fetch the crocodile for you now?"

Hook did not look up at Peter or at the retreating form of Wendy. It would prove to be too much. Instead he busied himself with orders, his anger growing with each moment.

"I daresay the old codger looks rather unhappy," Peter remarked with glee. "He does so hate to lose to me, but always does!"

Peter laughed happily, zipping around his followers with ease, as if the afternoon's dangerous exploits had done nothing to his spirit. He was a wonder. Wendy didn't allow a look backward as Peter remarked upon the Captain. The lump in her throat was growing larger and larger with each passing minute. To look back now, into the face of James Hook would be her undoing.

When they were back at the home under the trees, Wendy gathered her brother's to her sides, and bid her farewells to the Lost Boys. There was much embracing and promises of good behavior. Peter stood off to the side, watching the exchange with hooded eyes. When the boys were caught up in their newest game of intrigue, as young children are so easy to distract, Wendy drew over to the silent Peter, looking slightly down upon the small boy.

Oh, he was such a young boy.

"Thank you for everything Peter," Wendy said in a chocked voice, and could feel fresh tears stinging the back of her eyes, which of course, horrified Peter.

"Don't cry!" he insisted, stepping back from her, raising a hand as if to fend off the onslaught of her emotions. "There's nothing to be sad about! Enough of this nonsense."

And Wendy, being the kind girl and sometimes mother that she was, she did as he asked, for she loved him more than anyone ever would or could. Peter would always have a special place in his heart for Wendy, as she would for him. It was Peter whom taught her to fly, to brave pirates and sword fight properly. It was Peter who drew out her imagination and savored it and allowed her one last taste of immortality.

And so while Wendy did resent Peter for his taking her away from Hook, Wendy could not bring herself to hate the boy who had in many ways brought her back to life.

"There now," Peter said more comfortable when Wendy's tears had dried, and a warm smile had taken over her features. "Happy again, I'm glad to see."

"Yes, of course."

Peter's features suddenly darkened as he realized what was to come next. He sulked with emphasis, dropping to the ground with his arms crossed. "It's not fair. I want you to stay!"

"But we've made a promise Peter." Wendy was such a good soul.

"I know," he admitted after a long while, his lower lip sticking dramatically out in an exaggerated pout. He busied himself tracing with dirty finger along the sand below him. Wendy watched this in silent fascination and regret.

"And if Hook had gone back on his promise, you never would have lived."

"So it is," Peter said, standing tall once more.

His features which had seemed so harsh and almost mature had seemed to fade, and all the boyish immaturity was back upon his face. He gave Wendy one last smile, before holding out his hand.

"Good-bye Wendy."

Wendy took Peter's small hand, shaking it quickly as she took one last look at the boy wonder, seeing his smile even more impish, the eyes even merrier, and the stance of pride and childish belief in immortality.

"Good-bye Peter."

Wendy was not alone on her trip home to London. Her dear brother's Michael and John sailed merrily at her sides. They were all rather grown up you see, and instead of being utterly depressed about going home, they were relieved. No more sleeping outdoors with no blankets, no more worries of pirates. They'd lost their imagination rather quickly. So is the curse of growing up.

"You know," John said with an uncharacteristic laugh. "This is just like our last intrigue! Shall we slip into our beds and surprise mother and father like last time?"

Wendy's mind however was still filled to the brim with adventures she wanted to go through, and so she did not hear John's plan. She felt tears welling in her eyes as Tinker Bell suddenly darted ahead, trying to lose her unwanted followers.

"Wendy?" Michael called, sailing over to her. "Do you not wish to return home?"

"Of course not Michael," Wendy said, angrily brushing away her tears. "I want to stay in the Neverland. I want never to grow up. I want to stay..."

"With the Captain," John finished gravely in a whisper that only the two of them could hear. "Oh Wendy, what have you done?"

Wendy's tears slipped more openly down her face now, her sniffles growing louder. There is nothing quite as awful as falling in love with a scoundrel, and having your family know it!

"I have fallen in love," Wendy admitted through hiccupping sobs. "With a most horrid man if you were to ask anyone. I've done the worst thing imaginable."

"No," John sighed, "you haven't Wendy. Falling in love is simply a grown up thing to do is all. And he was kind to you, you've told me that. That doesn't make it worst. No matter how much you don't wish to grow up Wendy, you have. And it's not a bad thing. It's real life."

Tinker Bell suddenly cried something that only Peter could understand, if he were there, before she darted downward, and the large clock tower of London came into view. Wendy's stomach sank.

Home. Responsibilities. Growing up. Pain. Love. Wishes. Longing.

"But I don't wish for real life," Wendy whispered to herself as Michael sailed down after Tinker Bell with Michael quick to follow. Wendy cast one last look over her shoulder, and even though it was quite impossible, Wendy could almost imagine going back to the Neverland, back for spring cleaning with Peter...

"Goodbye," Wendy whispered into oblivion.

And so it was that the three Darling children, although not truly children any longer, drew down from the clouds, into the quiet and starry London night, towards their welcoming home.

"The window," Michael said in disbelief as they drew closer, "its open!"

"It is always open," Wendy reminded him, not remembering that Michael had only been a small child on their last trip home from the Neverland. They drew up to the large nursery window, stopping short as they viewed their parents in the room, sleeping unsettled. And as they all floated outside the window, looking into the quiet scene before them, they could not all help but poorly mask large sniffles. There they were, just as years before in their youth.

"Like when we were children," John said sorrowfully.

"Oh such memories," Wendy said, for the first time being glad to be home as she viewed her sleeping parents. "Yes, let us slip into our beds as if we haven't been away. Hurry John, Michael. Before they awaken."

And so they did just that. Sailing in silently through the open window, the three Darling children climbed into the beds of their youth, and sighed contently. Oh how good it was to be home again. And so it was, when Mrs. Darling awoke moments later to the sight of three bumps in three beds, she cried so merrily that it woke Mr. Darling up from his chair, and he went sailing to the ground! But even that event could not keep the relief and happiness from his face and voice.

The two male Darling children threw the blankets off of them, and rushed into the wide open arms of their parents. It was Wendy who held back, surveying the scene a moment longer. Was this what she wanted? Wendy hadn't time to guess, for her mother had already rushed over, beaming.

"Oh what punishments your father has put himself through on your account!" Mrs. Darling said, throwing her arms around the startled young girl. "He believes it was his insistence you marry Jack that sent you off."

"Oh, silly Father," Wendy laughed as she peered over her mother's shoulder at her father who was giving her a most sorry and wounded look, with such sincerity that only father's possess that Wendy forgave him instantly.

And such a happy reunion it was! With tears and hugs and laughter all around. It ended only when Michael nodded off mid-sentence, that the parents found it their duty to summon their precious children to bed.

Again, it was Wendy who stayed back, waiting for her parents to return to the near empty nursery. It was dark now and seemed cold...different. She was not to marry James Hook. That was the thing of fairy tales and dreams of a carefree youth. She was older now, wiser to the world of reality. She had a duty which would benefit her family, and now, after she'd had a taste of what could be out there, she knew it was time to throw away childish dreams.

It was time for responsibility.

Her parents returned moments later, seeming even older to her...stranger. Wendy felt her stomach tumbling, but she knew what she had to do. She was a grown up now. Grown ups made decisions for the best of all, not the singular.

"Mother, Father," Wendy said solemnly looking to her parents. "I have given this much though, and have decided that...I _will_ marry Jack Belstow."

The Darling's looked to one another in complete surprise before turning back to their daughter who seemed so similar and yet so changed.

"Such change!" finally said her father merrily, his head already coming up with the new sums his daughter would be entitled to.

"Wendy..." Mrs. Darling's eyes were filled with concern. "This seems a bit soon-"

"I have learned much Mother," Wendy admitted reluctantly. "This is the life I must lead. It is the life I was meant to lead. I am a grown up now."

Mrs. Darling said nothing more and did not oppose when Mr. Darling called up the Belstow's, informing them of the grand news. Jack was as Mr. Darling put it; thrilled. Wendy was pleased at her parent's excitement, but if one were to look into the dark eyes of Wendy Darling at that moment, they would have seen nothing but quiet despair.


	19. James Hook, thou not wholly unheroic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite chapter - UP

And so it was that Wendy was engaged to Jack Belstow.

Over the many months of their engagement, Wendy picked out her flowers, dress and everything else that brides-to-be do. She and Jack went around London, seeing which flats they liked best for their future home. No one noticed Wendy's obsession with checking the post, or her desire to spend so much time in the nursery, gazing out the window. No one questioned anything, because Wendy Darling was finally so blissfully normal, like the other girls her age that wanted to be married and have children. No one was more pleased with this arrangement that her father, who never shied from expressing to her how happy he was at her choice.

And so, even when Wendy did double guess her self, and ardently wish she could go back on what she'd said, she knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't face her family's disappointment. Wendy tried her best to like Jack. She truly did. She tried even harder to love him. But, love is a fickle thing, like a strange animal that no one may willingly tame. It will simply be drawn from one to another until it settles on the one it cannot live without. So was Wendy's love, a most elusive creature.

Sometimes Wendy would look at Jack as they walked through the park, or zoo, and try to imagine him as a pirate, sailing the high seas. She would imagine his boring demeanor away, would attempt to imagine him a most romantic man who could easily defend her honor should he engage in swordplay. But, this experiment would prove to be too painful in the end, and she would complain of fatigue or sickness.

Wendy's imagination it would seem was growing weaker with each passing day. Jack himself tried his hardest to love Wendy as well. Which wasn't hard since she was such a lovely girl. It was far easier for Jack to fall in love with Wendy. And now that she didn't tell stories of adventures, and nonsense such as that which often irritated, Jack found it even easier to imagine Wendy Darling as his wife.

He had admired Wendy from afar for almost two years now, ever since he'd met her at some party the bank his father worked for was holding. He'd seen her across the room, looking bored and he'd been instantly entranced. Of course as the months went on, he hadn't plucked up the courage to ask for an engagement, mainly due to her status. But when his father had passed on not long after, leaving him his fortune, Jack was a free man. And first on his mind was to have Wendy Darling for himself.

And so he'd attempted to court her, having little luck. She was always telling him such unbelievable tales, and making him feel utterly dull in comparison. She hadn't liked him, he knew that much. But, when he'd gotten the news that she had accepted his proposal he had shot out of his chair at once, in surprised ecstasy. Oh to have Wendy Darling say yes to him! How the lads would be envious! He'd the prettiest girl in all of London! He had already planned the church they would wed in, the same his parent's had. And as they had planned the wedding out, Wendy had agreed to everything he desired.

But, her latest idiosyncrasies did alarm him. And so it was that one day as they walked through the garden one spring morning, and oh how lovely the garden was. If you were to see such flowers growing about, such colors and vibrancy. It is such a sight to behold. Jack took Wendy's hand in his and glanced over. He was quite displeased to note the lack of change in her features. That distant look was in her eyes again, and he felt as if he were out walking with a stranger's wife instead of his own fiancée.

"Wendy, I am more than fond of you, you know that," he started suddenly, causing Wendy to falter as they walked. She kept her eyes on the ground, her face unchanged.

"Thank you Jack," she finally offered unconvincingly.

Jack stopped then and dragged a slightly resisting Wendy over to the more secluded area of the part. Cherry blossoms surrounded them, hiding them in sweet smelling security. He stood across from her, his large hands upon her shoulders. She felt their warmth, suffocating her. His face had such an innocent quality, she felt rather sorry for him as he spoke next.

"But Wendy, I don't believe you care for me." Jack's eyes were solemn, and as they looked from one to another Wendy felt a bubble of panic. It was true. She didn't care for him as he did for her.

"I do," she lied.

"I don't believe you," he replied uneasily. "Your eyes, they're so distant. I don't believe you care for me romantically. I believe you are interested solely in my fortune and in pleasing your parents."

Wendy felt the heat rising to her face at his accusations. His fortune had never really entered her mind. She'd simply known that she'd have to get married sooner or later, and Jack was the first one that had asked. She was also ashamed, because while Jack was a handsome, although dull, man, he was a kind man. A sensible man. He was the best that a girl in her position could hope for. And for this, she did not want to leave him.

"I apologize if my feelings don't show as other girls' may," Wendy finally voiced, after a moments deliberation. "But please believe me when I say I care for you Jack. I do, deeply."

Wendy could barely believe that it was she saying such lies. That she could do so easily worried and saddened her. She'd never had to lie so shamelessly in her life. But Jack was as good a man as any other.

"I wish I could believe you," Jack said, his voice filled with conviction. But his eyes were so completely open and readable. His adoration for Wendy was evident, and his face leaning closer to her own delivered the message plainly. And Wendy knew she had to act a certain way, although it pained her.

And so Wendy's eyes closed tightly, and Jack's lips touched hers tentatively. And while Wendy didn't feel the same exhilaration from Jack's lips that she received when locked in a gaze with the Captain, the result was not unpleasant. His kisses which had been so dull to her beforehand were now mildly acceptable. Jack's mouth continued, sweet and innocently pleasing. And although it was wrong, Wendy's imagination was already starting at the first touch.

She could all too easily imagine her in the arms of her beloved Hook. It was his mouth against hers, not Jack's. With such delightful reference in her mind, Wendy allowed her head to tilt back slightly as his kisses found their way down her mouth to her jaw, descending to her neck. There it was like the lightest of fairy wings upon her exposed flesh. She moaned slightly then, a name which haunted her dreams and waking mind.

"James."

Jack pulled away quickly, looking down at Wendy. His features were flushed, but she could see the pain in his eyes at her words. His mouth gaped open a minute in surprise.

"What did you say?"

Wendy felt her cheeks reddening, and she pulled away from him. She could not lie any longer, not to this poor boy who could never measure up to the man she loved. Had loved. "I'm so sorry," she replied, covering her face with her hands. She prepared to run, but was stopped by the force of Jack's hand around her upper arm. "Wendy," he whispered his voice hoarse.

"Who is James?"

And so, under the privacy of the cherry blossoms, Wendy fell to her knees upon the sweet smelling grass, and bid Jack do the same. And with his attention upon her, Wendy told him what she could. Of a man she'd known in her past, how she had been recently heartbroken and how it was hard to recover. And whilst she told this story, for once Jack didn't look disinterested. He didn't look bored or uninspired. He looked positively rapt at attention. He didn't once smile patronizingly and tell her he wasn't in the mood for 'one of her stories'.

"Oh Wendy," he finally did cry when she had finished. "It all makes sense now! I'm so relieved."

"You are?"

"This entire time I thought you did not care for me out of something else. But, now I see that you were merely harboring a broken heart," his face grew more solemn as he viewed her face. He took her right hand in his own, stroking her hand with his thumb. "All girls have their heart broken from time to time, especially beautiful ones. And while I cannot promise you will love me as ardently as you did him, this James, perhaps you will grow to love me in time. I promise to take care of you the best I can, Wendy. For I already adore and love you. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife."

Wendy wiped the remaining tears from her face, and looked into the face of sweet Jack. How had she even despised him at a time? Surely he wasn't the grandest, but he was a good man. And what more could she ask for? Wendy had grown stranger still as the months passed. Quieter, more demure, withdrawn. Mr. Darling was thrilled, deeming it as maturity. Mrs. Darling however was more skeptical, but was repeatedly put off if she tried to mention such to Wendy. Her once incorrigible daughter would simply give her a dead eyed look, shrug and say, "it is the way of adulthood," before settling back at the nursery window, looking out into the sky.

Less than a year since Wendy's departure for the Neverland, the bells of a church rang out in celebration. It was the Belstow wedding.

All over London it was heard of, a most exciting event. The Belstow's were well known and many had been invited for the celebration. Presents were piled a mile high upon the tables at the reception hall that would take place soon after the wedding. The wedding cake sat waiting merrily, its frosty layers begging to be sampled. The guests milled about, chatting excitedly about the festivities about to be held. Everything was perfect.

At the Darling home however, celebration was not an issue. Wendy stood before the nursery window one last time. It was a windy day, looking like rain. Such a sight would have depressed Wendy, but now, she deemed it entirely suitable. She looked over at the long mirror before her and tilted her head to one side. Her dress was rather lavish, considering what she always thought she'd be wed in; her mother's wedding dress. But Jack had insisted that she be bought a new one. It was long on the ground, with a large train out the back. Gold trim on the bottom gave it that added expensive flair.

Mrs. Darling came in with the veil, giving a soft smile to her daughter. She saw her daughter's frame, looking out the window with longing.

"Oh Wendy," she said with a smile, "you look exquisite."

"Thank you Mother," Wendy replied lifelessly.

Mrs. Darling did not however mention the one thing that had been troubling her since her daughter's return. The fact that, if you were to look carefully to one corner of Wendy's mouth, you would see that the kiss, which all Darling women seem to inherit, no longer resided there. Which meant, it was now with whom the kiss belonged to. Mrs. Darling had never really plucked up the courage to ask who it was, and Wendy had never volunteered such information. But, Mrs. Darling did know that this kiss was the reason that Wendy was so changed.

"Do you know why swallows build in the eaves of houses, mother?" Wendy suddenly inquired softly, her eyes never leaving the sky.

"Why my darling?"

"It is to listen to the stories."

Mrs. Darling said nothing, not truly understanding her daughter's words, but knowing they held some significance. She only wished she knew what.

"Are you ready to go to the church?" Mrs. Darling offered after a long bout of silence. She almost willed her eldest child to object. But Wendy didn't. She simply sighed darkly, looking even more fragile and alone.

"Might I have a moment?" Wendy inquired her eyes still on the graying sky.

"Of course." Mrs. Darling shut the door quietly after her, leaving Wendy alone in the room, her dress trailing behind her, and her eyes filled with tears. This was it. The end. As if signifying all that meant, there was a crash of lightning from afar, a rumbling thunder, and finally a downpour that seemed to bathe all of London.

"Oh!"

Wendy closed the nursery window quickly, shivering as the raindrops landed on her skin. Before she could help herself, she had kicked and slapped at the walls around her, furious for what was happening. Jack was a good man, but did that mean this was all that poor Wendy could expect in life?

"It's not fair!" She cried angrily, pounding her fists even more harshly against the nursery wallpaper, scratching and sobbing as she did so. She was filled with such confusion and anger and hurt, she didn't know what she was doing. But before Wendy could do real damage, there was a knock at the nursery door. She stopped her actions, panting heavily and looked nervously to the door.

"Yes?"

"Wendy?" Her father's timid voice was at the door. "There's a visitor here to see you."

"Who is it?"

"Well, he won't say," Mr. Darling whispered fiercely against the door. "I've never seen him. But, he looks rather well off."

"Let him in," Wendy said, distracted with the event about to take place.

She almost hated her family for ever pressuring her into marriage in the first place. But more furious with herself at allowing it. She suddenly looked to the engagement ring upon her finger, and disgustedly wrenched it off her finger. Property. That was all Jack truly saw her as. Without any heed to her actions, Wendy threw it across the room, hearing its soft plink across the floorboards and not caring.

Wendy stood with her back to the door, not that interested in her new guest. What point was there in seeing people? She was about to sign her life away. What else could go wrong? Just then she heard the door open, a figure enter and the door shut with a click.

"I apologize whomever you-," Wendy started, turning slightly.

Her voice however ceased as the familiar figure stepped closer to her. His once resplendent outfits replaced with a tailor fit suit all the fashion in London. His face clean shaven, the long, flowing curls replaced with a shorn, respectable style. But that singular shining item upon his right arm remained the same, and she loved him for it. "Wendy," the Captain's voice was hoarse.

Wendy felt her eyes growing wet, and without a word, she allowed his strong arms to embrace her. Oh how good it felt to be in his arms again. How good it felt to be wanted and needed by him. She smelled the ocean and wind upon him, through his cologne. As she nuzzled into his chest, she could feel herself being almost transported back onto the Jolly Roger upon churning waves and warming sun.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she whimpered relieved into his chest. She sobbed all the heartache she'd felt for the past year, the resentment and relief intermingling. "Oh how I've missed you."

But, all too soon, Hook had pulled away from her, making his way to the nursery window. Wendy could only stare after him in mild shock at his actions.

"I wish I could believe that," Hook said, his voice suddenly filled with remorse.

"Whatever do you mean?" Wendy questioned in panic, her eyes widening at his words. She drew nearer to him, sensing the unease radiating from him. All too soon he had spun around, his eyes coldly upon her own.

"Not even a year."

"What?"

"Not even a year has passed, and you are to be married." Hook took another step towards her. "Not even a year and you are to be another man's wife. Was I that simple to forget? Am I to believe your heart was ever so broken Wendy Darling? Do you think me a fool?"

"You don't understand," Wendy insisted, stepping nearer. "I wasn't marrying Jack for love, I was-"

Hook scoffed loudly at this, turning his back to her once again.

"I was so foolish to come here...to think-" He stopped short, his head sinking slightly as he sighed. Wendy watched his tall frame seem to collapse into itself, and she felt her heart aching so badly.

"When did you arrive here?" Wendy inquired, needing to know more. “And how?”

"Fairy dust," was the short reply. “Pan is not the only one on earth to use it.”

“Why have you never used it before?”

“I have never had a happy thought to accompany such a travel.”

Wendy fell quiet at this, her eyes drawing from his boots to his eyes. “How long have you been in London?”

“Six months.”

"And you chose to make yourself known only _now_?"

"I chose to make a life for myself," Hook's voice was low, and empty. "I chose to get myself a proper job, buy a home and make a new, respectable life. I chose to do all of this before I came to ask a particular woman to be my wife, to offer her the life I believed she deserved."

Wendy felt her heart give a merry hiccup, and she smiled broadly stepping towards him in glee. But all hope and smiles were wiped from her face as Hook faced her once more, a look of pure reproach on his face. And for once, since his arrival, Wendy was frightened of him.

"And then," Hook continued angrily, "Reading the paper not even a week ago I was affronted with the news that this woman, the woman I thought to be my perfect match, was to be wed to another man. That they had been engaged for nearly a year. That I had given up my old life only to become a mockery in my new one."

"But-"

"I came here to see proof," Hook continued, looking everywhere but her face. "I needed to see if it was true, if you were truly getting married today."

He glanced over her wedding dress then, his face crumpling as his eyes made their journey. Never before had Wendy felt so horrid in her entire life. She did her best to cover her dress, but in vain.

"And now that I have my proof, I am leaving, never to bother you again. And so goodbye, Miss Darling."

"But James-" Wendy rushed towards him, grabbing his arm tightly within her grip. "You don't understand, I couldn't care for Jack as I do you!"

"I saw you with him," Hook whispered harshly, pulling from her. "I didn't wish to tell you that, but now you've forced me. I saw you two for your walks, and your picking out of china patterns and homes. I watched it all silently, but I couldn't believe that you'd actually go through with it all. I continued wishing, like the fool that I am, that you'd call it off."

Wendy could only stare dumbfounded at the fury in his voice and eyes. She was completely speechless. Hook was pacing now, shaking his head in anxiety. He didn't seem at all the sea captain he once was. He seemed all to flesh and blood real to her.

"And then...that day in the park." Hook looked to his shoes now, needing a minute to collect his thoughts. "When...you kissed. And you didn't look the least revolted. I knew then that it was more than a game or joke. I knew that you cared for him. But still like the fool, I waited. And today...the day. I see that all my waiting was in vain."

And with this, Hook was at the door, bursting through it and leaving Wendy to stare after him in dull shock. She heard her father trying to say something to Hook, but stopping as the front door burst open, slamming shut after a moment. And Wendy, in all her propriety knew that to chase a man through the busy streets of London, especially on her wedding day, was completely inappropriate.

She knew that it was a silent rule in today's society. But, as you may know dear readers, Wendy Darling was never one for rules. Without so much as a thought to change from her wedding dress, Wendy had dashed down the stairs, ignoring the bells sounding from the nearby church, her heart in her throat and only one thought in mind. "Wendy-" her father began as she rounded the kitchen, only to see his daughter give him a head shake of impatience.

Before either parent present could oppose her actions, Wendy had thrust open the front door of their home open and rushed out into the downpour, her dress growing muddy with each frantic step she took.

"Who was that fellow that was here?" Mr. Darling questioned to no one in particular, watching his daughter race out the door and down the lane into the street.

"The one whom the kiss belongs to," Mrs. Darling whispered wistfully to herself, her eyes on the window. Mr. Darling was silent a moment before turning to his wife in utter confusion.

"What?"

Wendy raced down the street, her eyes blurred from intermingling rain and tears. She was sobbing openly, ignoring the concerned cries of those she passed. Only one thing mattered now to her. Only one man. The only man she had ever truly loved and cared for. Wendy dashed down the street she imagined Hook had rushed down as well. She could almost imagine him commanding the attention of those he passed, even without his resplendent clothing.

He was a man that commanded attention in his presence alone. She passed by so many bustling people; playful children, scolding mothers, happy lovers, doting mothers...she could barely contain her sorrow. And through it all, she scanned the sea of faces for those striking blue eyes, and the hands of gentleman far off, looking for that gleaming hook.

Alas, it was to no avail. She had been running for a long while, and she was no longer a child. Oh how horrible it was to realize such a thing! In the Neverland it seemed she was never out of energy. With such despair, Wendy fell to the steps of a large building, and allowed the sobs long suffering in silence to be heard. They racked her body, and made her eyes burn. Here she was, on her wedding day, looking for another man.

Oh how father would be disappointed. How mother would be ashamed. Poor Jack would be heartbroken. And yet, none of that seemed to matter much. What Wendy wanted more than anything was to have Hook's arms around her. She wanted to tell him everything. Only a short time passed before an elderly woman, carrying a large basket of flowers came over to the girl. She looked at the torn wedding dress, and the youthful girl wearing it.

It didn't take her long to deduct what had happened.

"Now now," said the older woman, kneeling at Wendy's side. "Don't you fret none dear. Jane Whittle here'll help you. Have a flower."

"Thank you, Mrs. Whittle," Wendy said trying to be polite as possible, allowing the woman to place the rose at Wendy's side. "But I don't think you could help me if you tried. I don't think anyone could."

"Now now," Mrs. Whittle said, clucking her tongue in disapproval. "What is this talk then? You just tell me what's what, and I'll see what I can do to help."

"I've lost my..." Wendy couldn't go on, and instead let her tears fall more freely onto her ruined dress. She felt the cool stone under her body, and felt all resolve leave her. She felt Mrs. Whittle patting her back comfortingly then, and she sniffled lightly, trying to regain control of her sense before she went mad.

"What is his name then my dear?"

"James." Wendy looked up at the woman in surprise and then hope. "Captain James Hook. Have you heard of him?"

"I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name," the woman looked kindly at the tearstained face of the young girl and handed Wendy a handkerchief. "Perhaps if you describe him."

"Tall," Wendy managed, "and so handsome. His eyes are the clearest blue you've ever seen. His hair is a glossy black, and when he smiles-" at this Wendy broke off, burying her face in her hands, her words muffled.

"Is there anything more?" the woman questioned after a minute. Wendy took pause, finally speaking softly, as if she could see such a man before her then.

"Upon his right arm there is a hook."

At this, the woman stood up with a start, pulling Wendy harshly up with her. Her dark eyes were alight, and she smiled so broadly Wendy felt her heart jumping.

"I did see him passing miss! Why, he went into that building right there not even ten minutes ago!"

Wendy stood looking to where the woman pointed. A large house that Wendy often passed when going to the library or shopping with her mother stood before her. They often paused to admire the large stature of the home. Of it's tall stately windows with their crimson curtains and the large wooden door, with its bright brass knob. It looked like a most resplendent, decadent home.

 _It is such a shame that house is not lived in_ , Mrs. Darling would remark, and they would continue on. For it was well known that the home had been empty for quite some time. And Wendy recalled now, two months prior she had heard her mother comment one morning over tea, that the home had been sold.

"Oh my," Wendy gaped in awe.

She stepped up to the door, swallowing thickly. She looked behind her, about to thank the woman who'd aided her, only to see that the street was now empty. She raised a hand to the door, about to knock when she saw it was already open a hair. She took a deep breath, looking nervously around her before opening the door with a small creak. Silence. Darkness. Wendy stepped over the threshold, looking round at the shadowy room. She then noticed a room, at the end of a long hallway, which seemed to be the only light in the entire home.

As she went down the long hallway, Wendy saw one room in passing, since the door was open. Inside this room there was a large piano and violin and Wendy felt her heart swell with memory. For you see, Wendy had believed the Captain to have forgotten such moments.

And as she drew to that little room at the end of the hallway, Wendy felt her lips pulling into a smile. A smile of memory, and of hope and love. And with those feelings, Wendy allowed herself to enter the room of light. Wendy viewed the Captain's back, as he stood before the fireplace, his arms crossed. He looked utterly miserable. Wendy was silent as she entered the room, pausing only a moment to view the large chairs before the fire, the entire set up reminding her far too much of the Jolly Roger.

Wendy smiled, realizing that the Captain could never really leave that life, no matter how hard he tried. The crackling of the flames were all that sounded in that large room. A room filled with so many items, but in the end, so unbearably empty. Wendy raised a trembling hand, and tentatively placed it upon the Captain's shoulder. Hook jerked violently as if he were being attacked and turned, his hook raised.

It lowered as he viewed Wendy's pale face staring back at him.

"Wendy," Hook began his features cool and distant. He hadn't the faintest how she'd found him, but he didn't care. He wasn't to stay in this cursed place another minute while she was married off.

"Before you even begin," Wendy insisted, "you shall listen to what I've to say James Hook."

"I shall n-"

"And you shall not interrupt," Wendy continued unfettered, "even though I know you've a terrible temper and would love nothing more than to order me out of your home this instant."

Hook did not oppose, but instead seated himself before the fire, looking to her with strained patience. Wendy felt her legs trembling, but continued.

"Yes, I did allow myself to be engaged to Jack Belstow. I did so because I felt I had to," Wendy looked to Hook's face then, seeing the disbelief imprinted there. "Yet I waited at every opportunity for a letter, a parcel, anything from you that would allow me to believe you'd marry me. That you loved me. And as the days passed, and the letters and parcels never arrived, I believed that you had forgotten me."

"Forgotten you?" Hook's face was now confused, worried even.

"That the spell of the Neverland had worked its magic on you. And so I grew up. I resigned myself to a loveless marriage with Jack. And I did so because I never believed that I would ever see you again."

Wendy saw Hook's features soften through her speech, and as she spoke she saw his anger melting away. Wendy dropped to her knees before him, grasping his hands.

"I love you, James Hook. Only you. You must believe that."

"I want to believe you," he whispered, looking into her face. He stood, as did she. She saw the pain in his face, heard it in his voice and wished nothing more than to erase it. "So badly."

"Has it been that long since you were truly loved?" Wendy inquired, resting her hand against his smooth cheek in comfort. "So long that you cannot recognize it before you now?"

"Forgive me." Hook's eyes fell closed at her touch. "I thought you had forgotten me. At first I thought that your feelings in the Neverland to be nothing more that craft to escape me. But...that afternoon in the cabin. And this..."

Hook grasped something out of his pocket, and handed it to Wendy. Wendy opened her hand, and felt her heart flipping, and her eyes watering as she recognized the item.

"The thimble," she whispered.

"I knew that it was more," Hook went on, wiping away her tears with his hand. "And I knew that you deserved a real life, Wendy. One I could never give you on the ship, or in the Neverland. And then, seeing you in that wedding dress...I'd never felt more pain than in that moment."

"Nor had I," admitted Wendy.

At this, Hook embraced her tightly, and she welcomed it. And she did not cry. Instead she smiled, bringing her arms tightly around him. It was right. They stood there embracing a long while, their lips finally finding one another. Wendy allowed her arms to wrap around Hook's neck, pulling his mouth more fully against her own. He groaned, pulling her closer, his kisses intoxicating her. And all at once, Wendy felt happy.

Truly happy. Hook pulled his face back, holding her head in his hands, gazing at her with such adoration Wendy blushed. He allowed his eyes to take in one long look at her. At the one slip of a girl who had done this to him.

"Oh Wendy," he whispered, kissing her forehead, then eyelids, then cheeks, then mouth. Wendy felt her heart jumping with every touch of his lips. There was a magic within them that Neverland could never recreate. It was a real magic, not one of stories.

"Wendy," Hook repeated, gazing at her. Both still drenched from the rain. He held her tightly against him, kissing her once more soundly upon the mouth.

"Marry me Wendy Darling," he whispered against her cheek, embracing her still so tightly Wendy could barely breathe. Wendy felt the warmth of her tears slipping down her cheeks, and she nodded, smiling through her tears as the Captain slipped a most exquisite ring onto her finger. She buried her face in his chest as he stood. And so it was that Wendy was engaged to Captain Hook.

It was a story so unlike her mother's proposal that Wendy had to laugh. What an exciting life they would lead. She was to be married to a man she adored, and to live a life that would never be commonplace. Wendy Darling was as happy as any young woman could ever be.

And so, back at the Darling home, Mr. and Mrs. Darling were surprised to see their daughter entering the door with a tall, distinguished looking man with a hook. It was only Mrs. Darling that knew immediately whom the man must be and she smiled kindly at the stranger and he smiled back just as kindly.

"Mother? Father?" Wendy smiled, grasping Hook's good hand even tighter and looking to her parents in utter contentment as she spoke. "There is someone I should like you to meet."


	20. The biggest adventure of all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness- your comments made my YEAR! So lovely and encouraing and SO appreciated! Here is the final chapter - i hope you enjoy it! - UP

Chapter 20 And this gentle readers, is where the tale does come to a close. A woman of about thirty stands before the window of the Darling's beloved nursery. The moon has a silver circle round it, bathing everything around it in ethereal light, including her. Her dark hair is tied loosely at the back of her head, sporadic tendrils spilling around the sides of her face. She smiles softly as the clouds pass, and as she closes her eyes she can almost see the island, and the mermaids, and the lost boys...and Peter.

It takes no genius to know that this is our beloved Wendy, all grown up.

And she had a lovely daughter. This ought not to be written in ink but in a golden splash She was called Jane, and always had an odd inquiring look, as if from the moment she arrived on the mainland she wanted to ask questions. When she was old enough to ask them they were mostly about Peter Pan. She loved to hear of Peter, and Wendy told her all she could remember in the very nursery from which the famous flight had taken place.

It was Jane's nursery now, for her father had bought it from Mr. Darling for a rather large sum, knowing that he was not one for climbing stairs any longer. Hook had insisted they donate their prior luxurious home in the centre of London. And so they had, only for it to become an orphanage. The most lavish and well taken care of orphanage in all of London, and it still stands there to this day.It had been a large joy in Wendy's life when she learned of James' purchase.

To know that their child would sleep in the very nursery that Wendy had in her youth. And so it happened one night that Wendy stood before that nursery window, looking wistfully into the snowy London night. She did this on occasion, and Jane was always curious to know what exactly her mother was thinking, but she had a fair guess.

"Tell me again about Neverland," Jane begged gently from her bed, her tired eyes drooping and her head tilting to one side.

"Oh dearest," Wendy trilled, tickling her daughter fiercely, loving the way her daughter's laugh sounded. It was a laugh completely unfettered or held back. The laughter of a child is something forever loved which is lost with age. Her daughter squealed with delight, settling down only as her mother's tickles diminished. Jane smiled sleepily, her eyes closing as she prepared for another of her mother's tales of Peter Pan, mermaids, and so much more.

"I think," Wendy drawled lightly, "I am too tired for story-telling."

"Oh, you aren't!"

"I think I may be," Wendy pretended, looking weary. "I think this night I may need some help."

Jane smiled widely, and as Wendy pulled the covers around her daughter's small frame. But it was Jane's invention to raise the sheet over her mother's head and her own, this making a tent, and in the awful darkness to whisper: "What do we see now?"

"I don't think I see anything to-night," said Wendy.

"Yes, you do," replied Jane, "you see when you were a little girl."

"That is a long time ago, sweetheart," sighed Wendy. "Ah me, how time flies!"

"Does it fly," asked the artful child, "the way you flew when you were a little girl?"

"The way I flew? Do you know, Jane, I sometimes wonder whether I ever did really fly."

"Yes, you did."

"The dear old days when I could fly!"

"Why can't you fly now, mother?"

"Because I am grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget the way."

"Why do they forget the way?"

"Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is only the gay and innocent and heartless who can fly."

"What is gay and innocent and heartless? I do wish I were gay and innocent and heartless."

Wendy couldn't help but feel a bit lighter. A bit as if her old life were shining back at her through her daughter's bright blue eyes.

"I do believe," she said conspiratorially, "that it is this nursery."

"I do believe it is." Jane's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Go on."

They then embarked on the great adventure of the night when Peter flew in looking for his shadow.

"The foolish fellow," laughed Wendy, "tried to stick it on with soap, and when he could not he cried, and that woke me, and I sewed it on for him."

"You have missed a bit," interrupted Jane impatient, who now knew the story better than her mother. "When you saw him sitting on the floor crying, what did you say?"

"I sat up in bed and I said, Boy, why are you crying?'"

"Yes, that was it," Jane said with a big breath. "And then he flew us all away to the Neverland and the fairies and the pirates and the redskins and the mermaid's lagoon, and the home under the ground, and the little house."

"Yes! Which did you like best of all?"

"I think I liked the home under the ground best of all."

"Yes, so do I. What was the last thing Peter ever said to you?"

"The last thing he ever said to me was, Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing.'"

"Yes."

"But, alas, he forgot all about me," Wendy said it with a smile. She was as grown up as that.

"What did his crow sound like?" Jane asked.

"It was like this," Wendy said, trying to imitate Peter's crow.

"No, it wasn't," Jane said gravely, "it was like this"; and she did it ever so much better than her mother. Wendy was a little startled.

"My darling, how can you know?"

"I often hear it when I am sleeping," Jane said.

"Ah yes, many girls hear it when they are sleeping, but I was the only one who heard it awake."

"Lucky you," said Jane who now yawned ever so slightly, hoping that this would go unnoticed by her mother. But, Wendy was a sharp eyed mother and knew when her little one should be asleep.

"Goodnight my darling," Wendy whispered, kissing her cheek softly, drawing the sheets more tightly around Jane and slipping once more to the window.

"Mother..." Jane inquired sleepily from her bed, "do you think that I shall ever see Peter Pan for myself?"

Wendy looked over to her dear child, and finally found it in her to reply to such an inquiry.

"I daresay you shall."

Satisfied, Jane slipped off into a dreamland that Wendy had not seen for many years. As the minutes passed, Wendy turned back to the window, her eyes growing misty. For as much as she loved to recount tales to her young daughter, tales growing hazy, it brought pain as well as pleasure.

"Oh, Peter," Wendy whispered softly, her eyes growing wet as she stared out into oblivion. She didn't know how long had passed when a rumbling voice entered the room.

"You look even more stunning tonight than ever, my beauty."

Wendy smiled gently at the quietly spoken words, and turned to see a tall figure coming inside the door. His lean body was covered in dark trousers and a dark grey sweater. His face was pale and clean shaven, and his hair was still sheared into a respectable fashion. And even though his eyesight was not as good as it once was, his vanity demanded he refuse to wear glasses. To look at him, he would appear a most handsome man and almost average save for his right arm, where he still wore his hook proudly, and those entrancing eyes of his.

"You say that every night."

"Then I must mean it every night." Hook drew closer to Wendy, pulling her into a tight embrace before going over to the bed of their daughter. She slept soundly, not even stirring as he placed a warm kiss upon her forehead.

"How were your classes?" Wendy whispered as he approached her once more.

"Fine," Hook replied with a small nod and smile. "More than fine actually, the headmaster wishes for me to teach the younger ones literature as well."

"It's no wonder," Wendy said as she snuggled into his embrace. "You have such a way with children."

Are you mocking me? Nevermind. Are your brothers and their families still coming for Christmas this year?" Hook inquired, looking out into the snowfall. Wendy could see the ever piercing eyes gazing out, and she wondered if he still longed for high sea adventures.

"Yes."

Hook let out a good natured groan and grasped her around the middle from behind. Wendy felt his chin upon her shoulder, his hot breath against her neck, and the thrumming of his deep voice against her back as he spoke.

"More children scampering about the house, causing mischief."

"You say how much you despise it," Wendy said turning into his willing arms and smiling with eyes twinkling. "But I think it is your biggest pretend."

Hook's wide grin reaffirmed her statement, and as he lowered his firm lips to her own, Wendy felt the same sparks and butterflies she had felt so many years ago, never fading. The broke apart moments later, their faces flushed and hearts pounding.

"I believe we should retire," he whispered into her ear and she nodded in agreement. Their fingers locked tightly, and the two prepared to head out the nursery door. Wendy was just about to close the aforementioned door when there was a sudden thud at the nursery window.

"I thought I closed the-" Wendy's voice died in her throat as she stepped more fully into the room, and that one lone figure forever etched in her mind stood proudly, hands on hips, not aged a day. She fell to her knees in surprise. 

"Hullo, Wendy," he said, not noticing any difference, for he was thinking chiefly of himself; and in the dim light her white dress might have been the nightgown in which he had seen her first.

"Hullo, Peter," she replied faintly, squeezing herself as small as possible. Something inside her was crying Woman, Woman, let go of me.

"Hullo, where is John?" he asked, suddenly missing the third bed.

"John is not here now," she gasped.

"Is Michael asleep?" he asked, with a careless glance at Jane.

"Yes," she answered; and now she felt that she was untrue to Jane as well as to Peter.

"That is not Michael," she said quickly, lest a judgment should fall on her. Peter looked.

"Hullo, is it a new one?"

"Yes."

"Boy or girl?"

"Girl."

Now surely he would understand; but not a bit of it.

"Peter," she said, faltering, "are you expecting me to fly away with you?"

"Of course; that is why I have come." He added a little sternly, "Have you forgotten that this is spring cleaning time?"

She knew it was useless to say that he had let many spring cleaning times pass.

"I can't come," she said apologetically, "I have forgotten how to fly."

"I'll soon teach you again."

"Oh Peter, don't waste the fairy dust on me." She had risen; and now at last a fear assailed him.

"What is it?" he cried, shrinking.

"I will turn up the light," she said, "and then you can see for yourself."

For almost the only time in his life that I know of, Peter was afraid.

"Don't turn up the light," he cried.

Wendy drew to Peter and gently, she brought a hand to his smooth and ageless face. He did not pull from her, instead stared up at her with a mixture of sadness and someting not quite name-able. Shr let her hands play in the hair of the tragic boy. She was not a little girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at it all, but they were wet eyed smiles. Then she turned up the light, and Peter saw. He gave a cry of pain; and when the tall beautiful creature stooped to lift him in her arms he drew back sharply.

"What is it?" he cried again. She had to tell him.

"I am old, Peter. I am ever so much more than twenty. I grew up long ago."

"You promised not to!"

"I couldn't help it. I am a married woman, Peter."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, and the little girl in the bed is my baby."

"No, she's not."

But he supposed she was; and he took a step towards the sleeping child with his dagger upraised. Of course he did not strike. He sat down on the floor instead and sobbed; and Wendy did not know how to comfort him, though she could have done it so easily once. She was only a woman now, and she ran out of the room to try to think, to compose herself. Peter continued to cry, and soon his sobs woke Jane. She sat up in bed, and was interested at once.

"Boy," she said, "why are you crying?"

Peter rose and bowed to her, and she bowed to him from the bed.

"Hullo," he said.

"Hullo," said Jane.

"My name is Peter Pan," he told her.

"Yes, I know."

"I came back for my mother," he explained, "to take her to the Neverland."

"Yes, I know," Jane said, "I have been waiting for you."

When Wendy returned diffidently she found Peter sitting on the bed-post crowing gloriously, while Jane in her nightgown was flying round the room in solemn ecstasy.

"She is my mother," Peter explained; and Jane descended and stood by his side, with the look in her face that he liked to see on ladies when they gazed at him.

"He does so need a mother," Jane said.

"Yes, I know." Wendy admitted rather forlornly; "no one knows it so well as I."

"Good-bye," said Peter to Wendy; and he rose in the air, and the shameless Jane rose with him; it was already her easiest way of moving about. Wendy rushed to the window.

"No, no," she cried.

"It is just for spring cleaning time," Jane said, "he wants me always to do his spring cleaning."

"If only I could go with you," Wendy sighed in suppressed envy.

"You see, you can't fly," said Jane pragmatically, giving her mother a caring look as she viewed the tears in the elder woman's eyes. "Do not cry mother, I shall return as soon as the spring cleaning is finished."

"I shall bring her back myself," Peter promised, and they headed towards the open window, both crowing happily with Wendy feeling so helpless.

"Tell father not to worry either," Jane called over her shoulder, "I love you both!"

Wendy felt her stomach dropping sickly at these words, and she went towards her daughter who was already out in the beautiful London night, only to be stopped by a strong hand on her arm, pulling her back into him.A figure that had been hiding in the shadows all along.

"She shall return," Hook promised firmly, although Wendy could see the worry in his eyes as his only daughter, his only child, made her way through the sky, her large blue eyes entranced by the figure that held her hand and promised her immortality. The two children flew quickly out of sight, as small as the stars, disappearing completely before long.

"You know the perils of that place," Wendy whispered against him, sobbing openly, the sobs of regret and pain at the loss of something more that she could not name, and worry that only a mother can feel.

"I do," Hook replied, holding her more tightly. "And I know that she will survive it."

"Do you never miss it?" Wendy asked of him, feeling as if she were a child again in his wake. He looked down to her, giving her a most serene and comforting smile. He placed a sweet kiss upon her forehead before pulling away.

"At times," Hook replied, resting his cheek against her head. "But I am comforted with the knowledge of something Pan could never know or understand."

"What's that?" Wendy inquired, growing calmer as Hook drew to into his arms, silently promising her protection, strength, love and devotion. And the words he spoke next were more poignant because of the conviction in which he spoke them, and because Wendy knew he meant it, and because she agreed with all her heart, no matter how hard it hurt at times.

"That to grow up and live, to truly live, is the biggest adventure of all."

And now we leave these two, staring out the window after their beloved daughter. They hold each other tightly, like two people whom have lived the world in all its chaos, drowning in the sea of the world and cling to one another for life. Like two figures that have been through much and wish never to endure such alone. As you look at Wendy and Hook, you may see their hair becoming white and their figures growing little again, for all this happened long ago.

Jane is now a common grown-up, with a daughter called Margaret; and every spring cleaning time, except when he forgets, Peter comes for Margaret and takes her to the Neverland, where she tells him stories about himself, to which he listens eagerly. When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.

THE END


End file.
